A Journey Through the Dark
by Kiruya
Summary: My continuation of "A New Beginning" by Rainy Ink. The story of Sam and his reunion with the Autobots. First fic, let me know if you like it or hate it. Will be rated M if continued. Anonymous reviewers welcome!
1. Raining Ink's StoryPrologue

**Kiruya's Author Note:** Hello all. With Raining Ink's permission I am posting the story they wrote called "A New Beginning" as a prologue chapter to my story "A Journey in the Dark" so you can enjoy her fic and understand where mine is coming from. You can find Raining Ink's profile here: .net/u/1944343/Raining_Ink and their story here if you'd like to comment directly to Raining Ink: .net/s/6020460/1/A_New_Beginning

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IMPORTANT: I have developed a truly embarrassing degree of obsession with Transformers fan fiction lately. Unfortunately, there are not nearly enough Sam-centric stories out there to satisfy my craving. With that in mind, I have got to get this little piece out of my head. It's a complete one-shot, but it would also work quite well as the prologue/ first chapter of a multi-chapter fic.** I will not be writing said fic. Consider this a challenge **to anyone out there who has at least seen the movies to continue the story. Take this piece, and use it as a jumping off point for your own work! Just give me a heads up to let me know, so I can read it. See challenge details at end.

**A New Beginning**

**[] Sixty Years after Egypt []**

I had known this day would come. Six decades is a long time, almost a lifetime for the average person, and though I had tried to forget, tried to force the inevitable to the back of my mind, I had never quite been able to escape from the truth. Mikaela, my wife, had grown old, gotten sick, and she had died. She was seventy-nine years old, and I had known it was coming; but that didn't spare me from the pain of the reality. As I sat by her bedside in the room we had shared for so many years, my grief was overshadowed only by my guilt. Mikaela had not had the life she had wanted, no matter what she said, and it was all my fault.

Sixty years ago, a boy named Sam Witwicky died to save the leader of an alien race from death, but he didn't stay dead. Sam was given another chance, a chance no human had ever had before. He was touched, blessed, fated; he was beloved by some of the noblest beings in the universe. It was the chance of a lifetime, the chance to change the world. I am Sam, and I'm very much afraid that I have wasted my second life. The Primes should have resurrected someone else. I've screwed things up royally so far.

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My story starts with fear. Terrible, gut-churning, mind blotting fear. It is the kind of emotion that settles into your bones, into the darkest parts of your heart, and no matter how hard you fight it, you can't win. The fear becomes a part of you, and it's very hard to fight against yourself. After the events in Egypt, things were great for awhile. Life settled down. I went for long drives with Bumblebee, took a few college classes, and got drunk at a wild party or two. The most massive government orchestrated cover-up in the history of human civilization managed to convince most of humanity that the giant alien robots they had seen on TV were part of an elaborate terrorist hoax. (My roommate, Leo, was outraged when they wiped all the footage from his website.) All in all, things were looking up, and one day, not long after everything had calmed down just a little, I asked Mikaela to marry me. She said yes.

We had a small ceremony at the Lookout. An indoor wedding was kind of out of the question considering some of the people on our guest list; Mikaela's dad, out on parole, couldn't figure out why we wanted to have a lot of cars parked so nearby. I think he worried that his daughter had gotten a little too far into the whole grease monkey persona. That was pretty much the best time of my life. Too bad it was so short-lived. Mikaela and I were crazy in love like only newlyweds can be, and I was spending every day in a more or less constant state of euphoria at my good luck, but then the Decepticons decided to rain on our parade.

It wasn't much of a battle compared to some of the others I had been in. Barricade and the Seekers made an appearance one day just after our honeymoon while Mikaela and I were out for a drive with Bumblebee. Optimus and Ironhide weren't far away. Mikaela and I ran for cover while Bee held the 'cons off until help arrived. The Decepticons had been looking for easy pickings, not a full-blown battle, and they disappeared when Optimus showed up. The fight was short, but somehow Mikalea got hurt. Debris, probably from a canon blast impacting one of the 'cons, had torn through her shoulder like a knife cleaving soft butter. I held her to me all of the long ride to get to Ratchet. Her screams rang in my ears the whole way, and by the time we got to the medic I was covered in her blood. After a few weeks, Mikaela was fine except for soreness and some extensive scarring. I wasn't fine. Seeing my wife like that had let the fear in, and the need to cut ties with my life and start over, somewhere safer where she wouldn't be hurt, began to override even my love for my Autobot friends.

I didn't want to be a hero anymore. I didn't want the responsibility when it came with so much heartache and pain. I wanted normal, ordinary, unspectacular. I wanted a house with a dog and some kids, and I didn't want to wake up one morning to find that my family had been murdered in the night by a vengeful alien robot. Mikaela argued with me, but eventually she agreed to leave and set out for a new life away from the dangers of the Cybertronians' war. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. Once I convinced Bumblebee and Optimus that it was what I truly wanted, the Autobots did everything in their power to help me get away from them, though I know it hurt them deeply to do so. Records were wiped and changed, a large sum of cash was delivered to me in two suitcases, we were given fake identifications, and even government databases no longer recorded the existence of Sam and Mikaela Witwicky.

On a prearranged date, Mikaela and I got in a new car (one an almost tearful Bumblebee had picked based on safety ratings) and drove away. And we drove and drove and drove…out of the United States up into Canada and then to a small town in the middle of nowhere. We passed a cozy-looking house, just right for two, with a FOR SALE sign out front. It was surrounded by woods, a couple of miles away from the little town. Mikaela's eyes brightened at the sight of it. "That looks like a nice place," she said wistfully.

I paid for it in cash the next day. We tipped the realtor heavily to fill out the paperwork with fabricated contact information. It was supposed to be a temporary place. We were just going to stay there a couple of years until news of our disappearance quieted down and we could figure out what to do with ourselves. We ended up staying for six decades. The Autobots didn't know where we were; they had agreed not to track us, to erase knowledge of our whereabouts from their processors, and they had promised to prevent our enemies and our government from becoming aware of our disappearance until it was much too late to do anything about it.

The first few years were wonderful, almost magical. After all we had been through together, Mikaela and I were strong enough to weather the disagreements and difficulties that all marriages are prone to in the early years. We loved each other more and more each day, and even though we both missed our old life on occasion, we never talked about it. We started trying for a baby. I felt much too young to be a father, but Mikaela only laughed. "You'll get used to the idea, Sam," she said. I did. Before long I was almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of having a child, someone to care for that was a part of both of us. But a year passed and then another, and Mikaela didn't get pregnant.

Mikaela went to see a specialist, and they ran about a million tests. To our relief, nothing was wrong with her. I went to see a specialist, only I never actually made it in to talk to the doctor. I remember it as though it happened yesterday. All of my surroundings were the sterile, blinding white that I associate with hospitals. A plump nurse who spoke strongly accented English took me to a back room to do some preliminary blood work. The room smelled strongly of alcohol and bleach. She told me to roll up my sleeve, and then she pressed the needle against the flesh of my inner arm. It bent. The needle touched my skin, she pressed, then she pressed harder, and then the needle bent as though she had been trying to shove it into an iron bar instead of the tender skin over my veins. I stared at the nurse; the nurse stared at me. Neither of us said anything for several long seconds. "It must be a bad needle, sir," she said at last. She smiled. "Just let me grab another."

The nurse was flustered; it took her longer than it should have to get the next needle. Her confusion gave me enough time to come to my senses. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but I was almost positive that if she tried to stick another needle in my arm and it bent too, I wouldn't be able to explain it away. I shoved down my sleeve and stood up so hastily that I knocked over the little box of alcohol wipes on the table. "Sorry," I said. "I've got to go. Family emergency."

I walked back to the waiting room, grabbed a startled Mikaela by the arm, and then I ran out of the Doctor's office as though I were being chased by Megatron himself. I explained what had happened as we drove back to our house. It took Mikaela more than an hour to help me calm down. When we got home, we did a little experimenting in the kitchen.

"Press it harder," I urged her frantically. Mikaela held the steak knife against my arm with an expression of intense concentration.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sam," she said.

"But that's the whole point!" I argued. I looked to her, and I know she saw my silent pleas. _Please cut me,_ I was begging. _Prove that I bleed. Prove that I'm human._ She pressed harder and harder, until her hands were shaking with the effort. After more than a minute, she dropped the knife and stared at my unmarked skin.

"Sam…" she began gently.

"No!" I said fiercely. "It's just a skin disorder or…or something. Ratchet scanned me a hundred times after Egypt, a thousand times. He said everything was normal!" This was true. The medic had done thorough scans of all of us, but he had focused on me in particular. I was free of Cube radiation, free of influence from the Matrix, free to live a normal human life. He had poked and prodded me with needles, and I had bled just like any other person.

"I think Ratchet missed something," she said calmly, and then she walked upstairs to the bathroom. I heard her turn on the shower, and she stayed in there for hours, long after the hot water ran out.

Things were different after that day; they were harder. Mikaela and I kept trying for children, but it was pretty clear that it wasn't going to happen for us. I tentatively suggested adoption or artificial insemination. She refused. She suggested we go back home to our old friends and pick up our old life. I refused.

"I just miss the feeling that I was making a difference," she said. "We did something really amazing once, Sam. Don't you remember?" I remembered, but I also remembered holding her broken body in my arms and fearing that I would lose her forever; and I was too afraid to take that risk again.

Mikaela started a small auto repair business in town. She did a fantastic job of course, and working with cars seemed to help her take her mind off things. When I wasn't hanging around the shop with her, I started taking courses by computer using my fake identity. That was when I started to notice other unusual side effects. Facts stuck in my head as though they had been super glued there. Mathematics became ridiculously simple, almost intuitive. My literature essays still sucked, but other than that, school had become much easier than I remembered it being before. When I watched Mikaela around the shop, I started to notice things about the machines she worked on. I had never had great skills as a mechanic, but suddenly I understood how all the parts ought to fit together.

Weeks turned into months, months into years, and seemingly before I had time to blink Mikaela was icing the cake for my 40th birthday. She was never really into those domestic tasks like baking; I actually did most of the cooking, but every year for our birthdays she insisted on making cakes. They usually tasted awful, but I loved them anyway. It was tradition. That year, however, everything fell apart.

We finished the cake and coffee, and after a short conversation about the shop and our plans for it, Mikaela sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand. "Sam, we need to discuss something," she said. She was rubbing small circles into my palm, a gesture of comfort that I didn't yet understand the need for.

"What about, bunny?" I shot her an impish grin. We still laughed about Trent's nickname for her sometimes.

She sighed. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?" she asked.

"I shaved this morning!" I protested. Mikaela had laughed herself silly the first time I tried to grow a beard. I'm just not one of those guys who's naturally hairy, and it didn't turn out well at all.

"No, Sam," she said in exasperation. "This isn't about the eight measly hairs you can grow on your chin. This is serious! Have you really not noticed?"

I stared at my wife, nonplussed. "I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary," I said. "Am I getting really hideous in my old age or something? You about to leave me for some hot young biker guy?"

She started rubbing the comforting circles into my palm again. "Sam," she said in a tightly controlled voice. "You're not getting any older."

"Alright, alright, I'll be serious," I said, smiling. I thought she was commenting on my maturity. "What did you want to tell me?"

She looked stricken. "No, Sam!" she said. "I was being serious! You are _not_ getting any older."

I heard her, but I still didn't understand. "What?"

She grabbed my face between her hands and stared into my eyes. "Sam Witwicky," she said. "You are forty years old today. Forty! The same age as me. But you don't look a day over twenty-five. Sam, you're not aging. You're the same physically as you were fifteen years ago."

Something in my gut froze at her words. I hadn't seen. I hadn't known. The face I saw in the mirror every morning was my face; there wasn't any need to analyze its age. I looked just like I always had. Only that was the problem, wasn't it? I looked the same as I had for years…and Mikaela didn't. I studied my wife's face with a growing sense of dread. She was beautiful; she was my Mikaela. I hadn't noticed the faint lines around her eyes and her mouth, the lines that crinkled up when she smiled, but they were there all the same; and I knew, without needing to run check a mirror, that there were no lines on my own face.

"No," I whispered in denial. "No, this can't be right," I told her. "This isn't fair."

"It will be okay, Sam," she said.

"How will it be okay?" I asked, the panic I felt seeping into my voice. "How can this ever be okay?"

That was a dark period in my life. I began to check my face in the mirror almost obsessively. I wanted to see crow's feet, the beginning of wrinkles. Age spots would have been a blessing. But every morning I woke to the smooth face of a twenty-five year old, and the horror of it started to eat away at me. Twenty-five – the age at which the human brain becomes fully developed, the perfect age for whatever had taken hold of me to freeze my body in time. I would live to be all alone, to watch my wife grow old without me.

One morning I saw my reflection in the stainless steel toaster, and I couldn't take it anymore. All of the fear and anger at my situation that had been building inside me for months finally found an outlet. In an insane rage, I grabbed the toaster, fully intending to sling it to the floor and destroy it; but something else happened instead. All of the feelings that had been burning in my chest seemed to become a physical presence. Energy, a familiar energy I hadn't felt in years, leapt through my skin. The lights flickered crazily, and a spark of pure white energy leapt from my hands to the toaster. I dropped it back on the counter. Mikaela had jumped up from her seat at the kitchen table to calm me down, but we both froze to watch the toaster, which was vibrating so wildly it rattled the drying dishes from the previous night's supper.

"Sam?" said Mikaela in a worried tone, and even though I knew, on an intellectual level, what was happening, I still wasn't prepared when the toaster transformed.

Where the toaster had been, stood a trembling silver minibot protoform. I panicked. Thoughts of a killer Nokia cell phone filled my head, and I picked up the heavy iron skillet I usually used to scramble eggs in the morning and brought it crashing down on the bot. Once, twice, three times. "Sam, stop!" Mikaela screamed, and she pulled the pan out of my grip.

I looked down into the fading optics of the being I had created and killed in less than sixty seconds. The optics were a clear blue, and even as I watched, they flickered and died. "I killed it," I croaked. My mind couldn't encompass the truth. My anger had all been swept away only to be replaced with an all-consuming grief. "I killed it."

Mikaela was staring at me with wide eyes. "You didn't mean to," she said, but I could hear the grief in her voice as well. I looked at the dead bot until tears blurred my eyes, then I sank to the tile floor and wept.

I was terrified of electronics for weeks after that. It was pretty clear that the Allspark wasn't as gone as everyone had thought, and I didn't know what to do with the truth now that it was staring me in the face. The power to give life, the power to take it away. I never wanted this. I refused to touch even the coffeepot for a long time, afraid that it might spring to life. Eventually Mikaela reminded me that the toaster had been a gift, a wedding present from Wheeljack. "It lasted for twenty years," she pointed out. "And it's always looked a bit peculiar. He probably made it out of Cybertronian alloy or something. Maybe it was more sensitive to your…well, to you."

"So you think I can touch the fridge without it going all Decepticon on me?" I asked in a feeble attempt at humor. Neither of us ever mentioned what we both knew to be true; the toaster, with its innocent blue optics, had not been a Decepticon. I kept its remains in a shoebox in my dresser; I was pretty sure I would spend my whole life trying to fix it, even though I knew it wasn't just an appliance to be pieced back together again.

As the years passed, I learned something that the nearly immortal Autobots had never mentioned to me. When you yourself do not decay, the years become little more than numbers; and they move more swiftly than you can possibly imagine. It sometimes seemed as though I watched Mikaela age before my very eyes. Fifty, sixty, seventy…when we went into town together, she had to introduce me as her grandson. She thought it was hysterically funny; I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.

After she became sick, she faded fairly quickly, as such things go, but that was the one time in our relationship that I felt dragged on agonizingly slowly. I begged her to go to the hospital, to a doctor. I even offered to take her to Ratchet, but she only chuckled wheezily. "No thanks, Sam," she said. "It's my time."

I moved a small table into our bedroom so that I could work on the dead toaster without being away from her. The toaster had become a long-term project, though I had known for many years that it was a lost cause. Whenever I was at a loss for something to do, I pulled out the toaster bot I had killed and worked on repairing it. It is almost an impossible thing to reassemble gears the size of grains of sand, but expiation is supposed to be nearly impossible in cases like this I'm sure.

On the night Mikaela died, she turned to look at me, and she smiled the smile I had fallen in love with so many years before. "I wish I could have seen them one last time," she murmured sleepily.

"Who?" I asked around the lump in my throat. I knew. Of course I knew. They should have been with us for everything; they were our dearest friends, but I had denied them the chance just like I had denied it to Mikaela.

"Bumblebee, Optimus, Ratchet," she whispered. "Ironhide. All of them."

"I'm sorry," I choked. "I'm so sorry, Mikalea. I was an idiot. We never should have left. I…"

She smiled again. "I love you, Sam," she said. "I always have. I have never regretted my choice to follow you out here."

I went to sit on the edge of her bed, and I leaned over to kiss her gently on the forehead. "I'll love you forever," I said. "Until the end of time."

"You'd better," she murmured. Her voice was growing fainter and fainter. "Listen, Sam," she said. "Promise me…"

"Anything."

"You'll go back to them," she said as firmly as she was able. "Go back to them. They need you as much as you need them. Don't give up on everything just because I'm gone. You've got to live."

"I will," I swore as tears began to stream down my cheeks.

"Do something great," she said. "Do something amazing." She sighed and turned her face away. "I think I need to rest for awhile," she said so quietly that I had to strain to hear her.

And then my wife of sixty years closed her eyes, and she died.

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My grief was like a hole in my chest, not emptiness but a presence that was ripping me apart from the inside. I don't know how long I sat by her side and cried, but I know it was hours. I decided to bury her in the back yard. Maybe it was untraditional, but it was beautiful in summer, and Mikaela wouldn't have cared either way. I carried the mangled toaster bot with me to bear silent witness to the funeral. It was good to dig, to lose myself in a physical task. As I sweated in the sun, my grief seemed to be forced from my body by happier memories. Mikaela and I had spent so many wonderful hours here, and love for her began to swell within me. It was a heartbreaking moment when I gently lowered her body, so light with age and sickness, into the grave; but there was also something peaceful about it. I had felt a certain peace in the presence of the Primes when I myself had died, perhaps Mikaela was in that same place now? She wasn't Cybertronian, but I could hope.

Hours later, as I stood up to head back inside, I realized that something had changed. The toaster bot…was standing up on spindly silver legs, peeking cautiously at me over the side of the shoebox I kept it in. I hadn't felt any release of energy from myself, so I couldn't understand how this could be possible. Perhaps when I had been digging the grave…?

I approached the tiny bot cautiously, not wanting to frighten it. The Canadian government definitely wouldn't appreciate this little addition to their native wildlife if it decided to take off into the woods. "Hi," I said.

It cowered down in the box, trembling. I flinched. Clearly it remembered it's death by frying pan all those years ago. "My name," I said, then, remembering the lingo from decades before I changed it to, "My designation is Sam." I hoped the bot had a decent processor on its shoulders, and that it had accessed the net to pick up some English. Some of the minibots didn't seem very bright. The smart-mouthed (and creepy) Wheelie had been the exception rather than the rule.

"I'm really sorry about before," I said. _Sorry I mercilessly slaughtered you right after you were born…yeah, way to make him feel better, Sam._ "I was surprised and frightened."

The toaster bot didn't say anything, and I began to think that maybe it didn't speak English after all. I was just about to reach down to pick it up anyway when something flashed across my vision. I looked to the side, confused. Had something flown by? A…psycho glowing bird maybe? I blinked, and then the something flashed across my vision again. It was faster than thought, but somehow my brain caught it this time, and it was like I was seeing it in slow motion. Two glyphs, two Cybertronian words. Was my former toaster somehow sending me a message? Just as I opened my mouth to tell it I didn't speak Cybertronian, I realized that I did understand the glyphs. I shouldn't. I never had before. But, as the two words flashed across my vision again, I found that they were completely understandable.

**Designation: Spindle.**

I blinked in astonishment at the toaster bot. Spindle. I could read Cybertronian? That was…well, kind of cool actually, especially compared to everything else. Being indestructible and apparently immortal was painful for me emotionally; being able to understand alien, however, spoke to my deep inner geek. Leo, if he had been the teenager I remembered instead of the decrepit old man he likely was, would have been so jealous.

"It's nice to meet you, Spindle," I said. (Lame, right? But what else was I supposed to say?)

Another glyph. **Intentions?**

"Well, right now I'm going to go pack my things," I answered. "I've got a long drive in the morning. I'll be heading toward some more of your kind, and I think you should probably come with me."

The bot clambered cautiously out of the box, and blinked up at me. **Purpose?**

I wasn't quite sure what the bot was asking. "Errr…" I said. "They're old friends of mine, called the Autobots. They probably think I'm dead to be honest. I know I can find them though, and they've got a medic, Ratchet, he can fix your vocal processors. That's why you're not talking out loud right?" I didn't know how I was going to find the Autobots; no doubt they'd moved to a new base in the past few decades. Nevertheless, I felt a sort of internal pull in myself when I thought of them, and I had a distinct impression that Optimus Prime was toward the south. Where he was, the others were sure to be, and somehow I didn't think it was going to be at all difficult to find them.

Spindle shot me a look that was probably a glare, and a lot of glyphs flashed through my mind in rapid succession. The translation into English isn't perfect, but it was something along the lines of: **Of course my vocal processors are malfunctioning. Upon my sparking I was smashed repeatedly in the head with a blunt object, you cretin. This Ratchet of yours had better be able to repair me.**

"I really am sorry about that," I said. "Don't worry, though. Ratchet can totally fix anything." I winced as I remembered the medic's bedside manner. I had a feeling that as soon as I showed up, looking twenty-five years old and in perfect health, I would be subjected to the most thorough battery of tests Cybertronian medicine could devise.

Spindle, who had been analyzing the freshly turned earth of Mikalea's grave with an expression of great interest, spoke again. **Your sparkmate has permanently offlined?**

"Yes," I said, feeling pain wash through me anew.

**You carry the Allspark? You cannot online her?**

I shook my head. "I don't think it works like that for humans," I said. "I'm pretty sure we…well, they…only get one shot at it."

**I will travel with you. It is not good for a torn spark to be alone.**

"Thanks," I told the bot. I bent down and held out my hand to it. The spidery little bot clambered up my sleeve, much heavier than it looked, and clung to my shoulder. "I could really use some company for the trip."

**The End (or is it?)**

**The Challenge:** Feel free to use this chapter as a starting point for your own fics! If you don't think it feels complete enough, take a stab at writing the next chapter. My only request is that you credit me for this chapter, and that you PM me so I'll know to read your fic. I really hope some of you will give it a shot, because I'd love to see where this story goes from here. Take it anywhere you want. This is as far as the plot goes in my head.

By the way, what did you think of it?

PS – Don't worry Out of the Night fans! I'm still working on the next chapter of that!

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**Kiruya's Author Note:** The following chapters will be my continuation of the above.


	2. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Based on Raining Ink's story "A New Beginning". Thank you for the inspiration. My first fanfiction. Please let me know if you love it, hate it, or any criticism at all. Sorry for the shortness.

Also, I own nothing.

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Sam spent the night packing, sifting through the remains of his and Mikaela's life together, extracting keepsakes and setting aside the rest. It was slow going; almost everything reminded him of his grief: the "Bee-otch" keychain gifted on his 30th, after confessing how much he missed Bumblebee, though he never regretted his decision to leave; the first edition of his favorite novel for his 45th; and so on. By the time Sam had reviewed his possessions and determined what he needed to take with him, the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds. It looked to be a mild day, not too hot, not too cold, perfect for beginning his journey into a not so fondly remembered past.

Walking through the house Sam prepared it for a long term absence, locking windows and shutting down appliances. As he moved through the living room, packed bags in hand, Sam noticed Spindle sitting by the computer, the screen flickering by too fast for a human to comprehend. 'But then,' Sam thought bitterly 'I'm not exactly human anymore, now am I?' Even without trying Sam understood what Spindle was viewing, the stream of images speeding past his mind and yet he just _knew_ what each screen meant, like he was getting a taste of information which, should he choose, he could expand into a detailed report of each page.

Sam shook his head slightly and the flow of information ceased. Looking out the window he found the sun had risen quite a bit. Glancing over to the clock on the wall he realized he had been captivated by his new found ability for at least a half hour. Spindle was looking at him with a puzzled expression on his face, the computer screen blank.

**Creator? What is wrong? **

"Spindle, don't call me Creator. I told you, my name is Sam, Samuel if you _must_ be formal. But as to your question, I am not sure what happened. It was like a light-show in my head; everything you were looking at was streaming past my eyes. I mean, I know my exposure to the Allspark has changed my brain, making it more capable of absorbing information, but this was different, this was almost as if… as if, I had become one with the computer. Like I could travel the entire internet in my mind, if I wanted to. It was disturbing."

**Perhaps my re-sparking has accelerated whatever changes the Allspark has been making to your physical form. Which is something your Ratchet might be able to confirm, hint hint….**

Spindle's impertinence brought a smile to Sam's lips, despite his sadness. "Alright, alright, we're going. You and Ratchet will get along famously, I can see it now."

And so, with his home of sixty years locked, empty, and fading in the rear view mirror, a toaster sitting innocently next to him in the passenger seat, Sam allowed his mind to drift into numb reaction.

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Hope I did it justice! Please review!


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hi all, thanks so much for your reviews and story alerts! I really appreciate your kind words and input! I am working hard to make the chapters longer. Please fee free to give me any feedback, good or bad. Thanks again! I hope you like chapter 2!

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Sam spent those first days travelling south through northeastern Canada in a haze. The scenery passed by in a dull blur, Bathurst with its Boys in Red memorial, down through Montreal with its sprawling sidewalks and thoroughfares, and then west towards Ottawa. He stopped when necessary and slept in the car when he felt the need. Several times Spindle attempted to engage him in conversation, hoping to keep him from falling into his grief, but to no avail. Eventually, after enough one-word answers, grunts, or shrugs, Spindle seemed to realize that maybe just being there was all he could do to soothe his Cre.. Sam's… broken spark.

As for Sam he was only peripherally aware of Spindle's presence at all. He was busy, trying to replay his fondest memories of his now former life. But no matter how hard Sam tried to recall his beautiful wife and their happy times, his mind would wander back to her death and his promise to return to the Autobots. Sam's guilt was crushing him, no matter Mikaela's assurance that she never regretted their life. _If only I hadn't been so afraid. Me, the destroyer of Megatron, human at that, the savior of Optimus Prime, afraid to live the life I was destined for, if you can trust a bunch of dead-but-not ancient Primes. If only I had stayed, maybe Ratchet could have reversed whatever has happened to me. If only.._ and so on and so on.

It wasn't until Sam reached into his pack in the passenger's footwell and his hand found nothingness that his mind snapped fully back to the present. He blinked and shook his head a little, looking out the window to see trees, trees, and more trees passing by. Glancing at his watch told him he had been lost in his heartache and guilt for almost two days, long enough even for his meager appetite to finish off his supplies.

Pulling the car to the side of the road Sam glanced at Spindle, finding the little bot looking up at him, apparently interrupted while reading Sam's first edition, small three fingered hands delicately balancing the book on his lap.

After a few moments of silence, Spindle decided that perhaps this time Sam was not merely stopping to rest. There seemed to be comprehension in his eyes this time.

**Well, good afternoon, Sam. Are we ready to exist in the real world now, or are you planning on reverting to your previous zombie status?**

After two days of being ignored, Spindle had been pushed to his limits.

"Wha..?" Gaping, Sam attempted to speak but was too shocked to form a thought.

Shuttering his optics and cycling his vents rapidly, Spindle calmed himself. Closing the book and placing his hand on Sam's, Spindle delivered a few home truths.

**I am sorry, Sam. I did not mean to snap at you. It's just… I've been sitting here watching you for two days. You've been listlessly driving, eating, and sleeping for two days. If I hadn't forced you to steer into a gas station now and again we'd have broken down 5 hours into this. **

"Thank you, Spindle. I don't really remember the last two days so well. Everything is a blur and all I could feel then was guilt and pain. I think I'm better now. It still hurts, but it's better than it was. Thank you for being there for me. I apologize as well; I should not have left you alone like that." Sam rubbed at his face. _Zombie, indeed!_ Sam mused.

**It is alright. I cannot say I understand what you're feeling, but I will be here for you. Perhaps you could tell me more about your Sparkmate? But first, perhaps you should consume some fuel. Your tank is growling.**

At that Sam laughed. "It's food, not fuel and stomach, not tank. But you're right. Looks like I'm out of food. We'll stop at the next exit. There should be somewhere to stop. Do you need anything, Spindle? I remember Bee used to need a fill-up every now and then if he'd been expending a lot of energy."

**No Sam, I am fine. I have solar energy panels hidden throughout my frame. Given my size I do not require much energy. A few hours of sun a day should be sufficient.**

"Alrighty then. Let's see if we can find a store and figure out where we should be heading. Any idea where we are?"

**I believe we just passed through Regina, Saskatchewan. The next town should be Moose Jaw. Sam, why did humans name their towns after vertebrate anatomy?**

Chuckling, Sam attempted to explain human logic and illogic to Spindle as he nosed the car back onto the highway. With a lighter heart and clearer mind, Sam started looking forward for the first time, if only just a little bit.

It turned out Moose Jaw was only ten minutes along the highway. Turning into the parking lot of the local grocer Sam prepared himself for his first social interaction since leaving home. Looking in the sun visor's mirror revealed a slightly pale face with dark circles under his eyes. _For once, my inability to grow a beard comes in handy. I don't look nearly as haggard as I should._

"We really need to get you a new alternate form. I don't like the idea of leaving you in the car, but I can't very well carry around a toaster. Besides, you should have something more mobile. There no guarantee we'll make it back without trouble and you'll need something to escape Ratchet once he wears out his welcome with his inevitable never-ending scans! What do you think you could…"

Sam broke off mid-sentence as his head seemed to get heavy and a buzzing white noise filled his ears. As he looked at Spindle he saw the bot's optics widen and grow brighter, as if alarmed. The sight of Spindle reaching for him was the last thing Sam saw as he slid into darkness.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I think my longest chapter yet. Thank you so much for the review and the favorites, story alerts, etc. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It should pick up some action in the next. Thanks!

* * *

**Sam? Sam? Wake up, Sam! SAM!**

Spindle emitted a low continuous clicking as he attempted to rouse Sam from his sudden collapse. Sam was draped over the steering wheel and it wouldn't be long before other humans noticed Sam's condition. Right now Spindle was relatively hidden from view, crouched below the line of the window near the gear shaft. Spindle raised his head slowly, peering out through the windows of the car. Seeing no one in the vicinity he managed to maneuver Sam back against his seat, pushing his head back so Sam appeared to be sleeping. Sam made no indication that he noticed being moved.

Desperate to wake Sam up, Spindle pinched Sam's arm, first gently then as hard as he could, which given his semi-cybertronian metal skeleton was considerable. Sam did not stir.

_**Figures. He finally breaks out of his grief just for this to happen. Hm. What to do, what to do? Drawing human attention would get him help, but I doubt he'd be very appreciative. **_

Finally deciding to wait until Sam's condition was noticed on its own, Spindle settled down in his toaster alt-mode. _**If you can call a toaster an ACCEPTABLE alt-mode, **_Spindle grumbled.

After about 5 minutes Sam's fingers began to twitch gently, as if grasping at something he just couldn't quite reach. Quickly the tremors traveled up his arms to his body, his head rolling around on his shoulders aimlessly. Spindle feared Sam would hurt himself as his body almost thrashed in his seat. Once Sam's hand slammed into Spindle's side, rocking him on his little toaster legs. Just as Spindle had had enough, resolved to blow the horn and summon help, Sam woke just as suddenly as he had collapsed.

"NO! I can't! I WON'T! You HEAR me? I won't!... I won't.. I won't.. I won't…"

On and on Sam repeated his denial, of what Spindle could not discern as Sam would not answer his questions. Finally Sam calmed and stared at his hands. Spindle's frantic cries finally broke through to him.

**Sam! Answer me! What is wrong? What happened? You, you, you just slumped over and, and, you started shaking and, and WHAT THE FRAG HAPPENED?**

"Spindle, spindle it's ok. Calm down! I'm fine! What are you talking about?"

**What? You just fell over in mid-sentence, started convulsing so hard you shook the car a little, and then come out of it screaming your head off and you day you're fine? You definitely need your head checked! You scared me half to the Pit!**

Sam listened as Spindle took out his frustration and fear while considering what Spindle had said. Sam _felt_ fine. He had no memory of this episode and screaming fit Spindle spoke of. The last thing Sam remembered he had been asking Spindle what type of alt-form he thought he could take on. Spindle was quite small, and had limited options. Sam hesitated to suggest an RC toy of some sort. Even after 60 years he did _not_ miss Wheelie. _Slagging horny Decepticon-turncoat!_

Sam looked over at Spindle, seeing the little bot glaring at him with no small amount of irritation.

"I don't know what to tell you, Spindle. I have no recollection of being unconscious, though I don't doubt you. The last thing I remember, I was asking you what you think you could use as an alt-form. I.."

Sam paused as a strange feeling came over him. His eyes itched and he rubbed them irritably. Glancing out the window to an old Chevrolet Volt, one of the original electric/gas hybrids to actually succeed in the US market, Sam was overcome with nostalgia of a sort. Mikaela, whether it be because of Bumblebee or just personal preference, had always loved Chevy's. Something about easy access to the intake manifold or something like that. Sam just knew easy access sounded sexier than cam shafts coming out of Mikaela's mouth. As his eyes came to focus on the Volt, it _exploded._

At least, that's what it seemed like it did. Floating in the air was every nut and bolt, every solar panel and nickel-cadmium battery which made up the vehicle. Sam blinked once, twice, then rapidly. But each time he could still see the dissected Volt floating before his eyes. Closing his eyes, turning his head away and shaking it seemed to do the trick. He could no longer see the Volt superimposed over his vision. However, as soon as Sam thought about the Volt, there it was again. It seemed the entire blueprint of the car was now in his head to be accessed at will.

Dimly in the background Sam could hear Spindle grumping '**Here he goes again' ** but Sam ignored him in favor of exploring this new found talent. Looking at his own car the same event occurred. He could see the engine, every part he focused on flying up to take center stage and the knowledge of the part and what it did, what it's status was, everything to do with that part Sam just knew.

"Cool."

**Would you be so kind as to share, oh fritzy one?**

Sam wondered where Spindle got his lines from but shrugged it off as unimportant in the grand scheme of things. In fact, looking at Spindle Sam could see his blueprints as it were as well. Only this time Sam could also see what shapes Spindle could take, how his form could collapse and bend to seamlessly become any number of objects. _Well, that solves that. Looks like I got some kind of upgrade. _

Sam was not sure if he should be awed or annoyed by this turn of events. But at least he knew what Spindle's ideal alt-form was. Now he just needed to find the real thing for Spindle to scan. Briefly the thought occurred to Sam that perhaps, like he did with the computer back at home, he might be able to connect with Spindle and transfer the scan data without need for the actual object. But the thought was gone as fast as it came and Sam promptly forgot all about it.

"There must be something about you Cybertronians, Spindle. Every time I'm around you guys something bizarre happens, apparently no matter how long I'm gone or how few there are of you. But what I was commenting on was the fact that I seem to now possess the ability to 'scan' as it were, other mechanical objects, including yourself. I can see what they're made of and how they're put together. Apparently with Cybertronians I can also see possible alt-forms."

**Well, that's… cool.**

"Isn't it?"

After a brief discussion of Sam's latest stop in his descent to Freakville, Spindle waited as Sam entered the grocer and bought enough supplies to last him quite a while. Luckily the grocer also stocked miniature grills and charcoal; Sam and Spindle would not need to stop for quite a while, except to sleep.

Walking back to the car Sam contemplated where they should head next. The first two days he had been aimless. Now, that feeling of South he had felt before when he thought about Optimus returned, doubly strong. He thought it might be very important now for him to reach the Autobots. There could be no more time to waste.

Loading the supplies into the car Sam attempted to strengthen that connection to Optimus, tried to get a fix of position.

Sitting down in the car and starting the engine, Sam pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the highway.

"Los Angeles. We're going to Los Angeles."

Spindle looked at Sam and nodded silently.

* * *

**Megatron's Throne Room**

**Nemesis, current status and location: **_cloaked in orbit around Earth_

"My Lord. Energy spike detected. Nature: Allspark. Location: Northern North America. Source: unknown. Orders?"

Megatron looked down at Soundwave's kneeling form. **Dispatch scouts, find the source and bring it to me. **


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait and the shorter chapter. I'm attempting to switch jobs so it's a stressful time for me now. I'll try to be faster updating. Thanks for waiting! Please review if you like it. Also, I'll be posting a poll in my profile (if I can figure out how), asking which universe you guys want me to use and draw names from (G1, movie-verse, etc). I am most familiar with the movie-verse and I assume most of our kind readers are as well, but if you prefer a different universe I'll be happy to do the research.

Last thing: I need a random Decepticon name, OC is fine. I'm bad at making up names so any help would be appreciated. Thanks!

* * *

From then on Sam was determined to reach the Autobots. Whenever he would think about stopping, perhaps stopping at a couple landmarks he and Mikaela had always wanted to see but didn't, he would start feeling anxious, nervous, and as a result he'd drive far longer stretches than could be considered safe. Even when he had to stop to rest his sleep was troubled. Spindle seemed to also feel Sam's tension and remained silent for much of the time.

Some strange instinct kept Sam on back roads for most of the trip. As a result Sam arrived in Los Angeles two days after leaving Moose Jaw, a full day later than Sam had thought it should take. Sticking to the back roads and small towns had not prepared Sam for the changes 60 years brought to large cities. Sam was pleased to see that the smog L.A. was notorious for seemed to be gone.

Driving through the outskirts of the city Sam was captivated by the changes he could see. He had bought his car just a few years ago so the vehicles he saw weren't so foreign to him, though they were quite different than in his youth. Well, his natural youth, anyway. Cruising along the streets Sam drove aimlessly for the most part. Ultimately he would reach the city's center but he was content to take his time. Spindle, too, watched the city pass by, peering over the window ledge and ducking down if anyone came near the car.

**Sam, this is amazing! The humans certainly have been busy! Look! That building says they build fusion power systems for cities and towns. Humans didn't have fusion when you left, did they? And look! There's a car flying in the air! Why didn't we see this in Canada, Sam?**

"Yes, Spindle, it is very different. No, we.. they.. didn't have fusion power. It was a theory only. And there were no flying cars, either. And I don't know why Canada doesn't have this technology. It's not like Canada was ever backwards. We passed through some large cities there. They should have had some of this. It's strange."

At this point they had reached the city's business section, very close to its heart. Sam could still feel the pull to Optimus, but he couldn't get an exact location now that he was in L.A. What feeling he had kept shifting. _Perhaps he is out on patrol? And if so, how will I find their whereabouts? _

Sam found a place to park and sat in the car since he did not have anything to feed the meter. Sitting back he tried to focus on the connection, blocking out all noise and entering a semi-meditative state. The connection strengthened and he felt as if he was floating down a river of energy.

Reaching the end, Sam saw a blue and grey mech standing to the right, looking between Sam and another mech, this one a deep green and purple, to the left, standing in some kind of room with what look like concrete walls. The colors were not familiar but somehow Sam felt that he knew them. A moments thought and Sam realized the one on the right was **Ratchet** and on the left was, was, _was_

With a flash of intuition, Sam realized that he was _looking through Optimus's optics! _And Sam realized, Optimus knew he was there! His vision of Ratchet and the other familiar mech blurred and he could feel Optimus' mind turning toward his presence, bearing down on him. Sam didn't know how, but he figured, _maybe I should get out of here before I get trapped by some kind of firewall or something._ _Do Cybertronians even have firewalls? Ooh! No time for chit chat, Sammy-boy, THAT doesn't seem pleasant!_

Speeding towards Sam was a ray of green light. Despite the comforting color, Sam didn't think it boded anything good. Before he left he spoke, "Where are you, Optimus?"

Brief recognition and a wave of confusion and surprise rolled over him and before the strong emotion shoved him back into his body Sam heard Optimus think, **Pershing Square, West 5****th**** Avenue and South Hill Street.**

With that Sam returned to his body with a jolt. Spindle was thankfully a bit calmer this time, looking at him with the obvious question in his optics. Taking a moment to calm himself, running his hands through his hair, Sam began to explain what had happened as best he could.

**Pershing Square is approximately five miles away from our current position. We should head to that location immediately before the Autobots move again. And before you ask, this city has a wonderful wifi infrastructure. The whole city is a hot spot. I can direct us easily.**

Agreeing, Sam melted back into traffic, following Spindle's directions with care. The feeling of unease that had kept them to the back roads the majority of the trip was back and no matter how reluctant he may have been to reunite with the Autobots, he would be happy for the relative safety they would provide.

* * *

_An L.A. street, not too far away…_

**Allspark energy signal has been detected, My Lord. Approximately 2,000 feet from my current location. It appears to be emanating from a vehicle up ahead. Identification impossible due to traffic conditions. Shall I engage?**

_**Not yet. Follow and report to me every breem. I want to know more before attacking. The slagging Autobots are present in the city, including Prime. If it appears the Allspark source is heading towards Prime and his lot, engage, but do NOT destroy the source, whatever it might be. It may be useful. **_

Holding back his irritation at having to wait and take a foolish chance, the Decepticon scout replied, **Yes, My Lord. Orders acknowledged. **

A large silver vehicle nosed quite rudely into traffic and followed its target.

**

* * *

A/N:** He'll meet the Bots next chapter, I promise. **  
**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **

_Italics: _thoughts

**Bold: **Cybertronian speech

_**Bold and Italics:**_Cybertronian speech through a commlink.

* * *

It took Sam and Spindle about 30 minutes to reach Pershing Square. Driving through the intersection as slowly as possible they scanned the vehicles trying to spot Optimus. A mech his size should be fairly recognizable no matter how technology had changed in the past decades. But upon driving through the intersection several times there was no sign of him, or of Ratchet and the other mech Sam had seen while connected to Optimus.

_And they were transformed when I saw them. They couldn't have been out in the open like this. But I can feel he is here. I know it._

"I think we'll need to walk from here on out, Spindle. When I was connected to Optimus the Bots were all in their natural forms. They must not have been on the street. Bu I know they're in this area. And besides, I saw a store down one of the cross streets that just might have a suitable alt-form for you."

Sam found a parking lot about two blocks down from the Square. Once he had paid the attendant he and Spindle, tucked under Sam's arm like a shiny metal football, made their way towards their destination. Spindle had almost never been outside the car so he kept peppering Sam with questions about everything he saw. Other vehicles seemed to catch most of his attention.

A short walk and they soon stood in front of a fairly large toy store. Advertised on the hanging sign and in the window was the selection for mechanical toys in particular. Walking in, Sam told Spindle to keep his eye out for something he liked. The toys in the shop ranged from antiques from Sam's era to the top of the line tech available today. Walking around the shop, he garnered a few strange looks, one lady whispering to her husband as to the toaster in his arms, but otherwise Sam was left alone.

Finally, after about 10 minutes of browsing, Spindle jerked in Sam's arm.

**I want **_**that!**_

"Well, it certainly matches your free spirit." Sam whispered.

_**That **_turned out to be a medium sized electric RC helicopter. It was about a foot long, about 5 pounds in weight with a 2-foot rotary blade diameter. Spindle would make one spindly helicopter.

After making sure no one could see them, Spindle shifted in Sam's hands and scanned the RC toy, saving the pattern for later.

Once outside Sam turned down an empty alley, placing Spindle on the ground so he could try out his new form. Sam watched as Spindle cavorted around the alley, hovering a few feet off the ground. He was so busy watching Spindle that the engine sound behind him went unnoticed until Spindle turned back towards Sam.

**Sam, behind you, there's a Cybertronian. I can sense its spark from here. Is that an Autobot? **

Whirling around, Sam looked down at a sleek black sports car with a red and silver accented grill. There was no brand marker, and, Sam noticed disappointedly, no obvious decal indicating the mech was an Autobot or Decepticon. But as he looked at the car he too could sense its spark.

Spindle transformed mid-flight next to him, looking between the two, waiting for Sam to take the lead.

Stepping forward cautiously, Sam addressed the mech.

"So, which faction are you? Autobot or Decepticon?"

Rolling forward slightly, the mech spoke, its voice deep and rumbling. **My name is Runamuck. I have been following you for quite some time. I see you are familiar with my kind. How?**

"Let's just say familiarity with you guys runs in the family. Now, I hate to be rude," Sam stated more forcefully, "Which faction do you belong to? Or, maybe, the war is over?" But even as Sam spoke he began to feel uncomfortable in Runamuck's presence.

**Very well, pushy fleshling, I suppose there is little reason for further pleasantries. I am a courier and scout for the Lord High Protector, Megatron. He has ordered me to bring him the source of the Allspark energy. I think we both know that's you. Now, come here!**

With that Sam began to run down the alley, away from the Con. Spindle returned to his helicopter form and flew after Sam. Behind them Runamuck completed his transformation and was just small enough to fit in the alley.

**My Lord. I am in pursuit of the source of the Allspark energy. It is a human boy, young, and accompanied by a small Cybertronian, also young. Uploading images. I can continue pursuit but the Autobots are near. I'll likely need backup if this chase takes longer than a few breems. **

Runamuck charged after the human boy, cursing as Sam made his way to the next street and disappearing around the corner. This was sure to bring the slagging Autobots right down on his head, and still no response from Megatron. Loyal he might be, but not to the death, not for some squishy who may or may not be the Allspark. At least three heavy Bots were in this city at the moment, Prime included, and Runamuck was not stupid. He would be outnumbered if he didn't catch the squishy soon.

**My Lord, your orders?**

Runamuck burst out onto the street, a car smashing into his right pede. The pedestrians scattered and Sam became lost in the crowds of people trying to escape the area.

_**Runamuck! You will get that human no matter the cost! If you fail, pray the Autoscum offline you. It will be more pleasant for you than if I get my servos on you! **_

Cycling his vents and picking up speed Runamuck hurdled over stopped cars and attempted to spot his prey among the fleeing humans. The fleshy was not outputting any energy signature at the moment so Runamuck had to rely on visual scanning alone.

Sam and Spindle fled within the crowd. As they ran and flew Sam noticed that there was something off with the pedestrians. Sure, they were scared, but not terrified as Sam would have expected them to be, as their parents were in Mission City all those years ago. Instead, they seemed to have experienced the whole "running from homicidal alien robots" bit before.

It was then that Sam realized the city itself seemed to be reacting to the Con behind them. Bright lights running along the buildings were flashing and an almost subsonic rumble could be heard pulsing around them. As the crowd ran down the street Sam could see groups splitting off and entering various doorways which Sam felt sure had not been there before.

Sam looked back and saw Runamuck just one stride away, the pedestrians around him trying their best to avoid being crushed. Some were not successful; Sam could see their mangled bodies being thrown clear behind Runamuck's pede's, like clods of dirt flying up beneath a horse's hooves at a full gallop. Sam, sickened by the sight, lost a bit of his speed, bumping into the people around him.

An arm grabbed him and Sam was pulled through one of the doorways with Spindle following him from above his head. Still looking backward Sam watched, frozen in place, as Runamuck tried to stop, his pedes skidding out underneath him. The Con slid a little and used his hands to stop himself. He reached through the doorway with his left arm, reaching towards Sam to grab him when all of a sudden Runamuck was engulfed in flames.

Runamuck hesitated a moment from shock but regained himself quickly. Reaching again through the doorway he could just feel the squishy's heat signature against his finger when the doorway slammed down on his arm.

Runamuck had failed. The Autobots and their accursed city had responded even quicker than he had calculated. Now, he was stuck with one arm in an escape hatch and the other blasting desperately away at the approaching forms of Optimus and another large mech. Focusing on freeing his arm Runamuck was nearly free when he felt a hand latch onto his captured limb and yank it back into the hatch.

At this point Runamuck knew he was done for. Sending all relevant data to Megatron, the last thing Runamuck felt before suffering a direct blast to his spark chamber, was the horrible feeling of his left arm being sawed off above the elbow. Even still, his fading processor informed him that this was still better than returning to Megatron a failure.

* * *

Sam remained frozen in place, watching as the Con was hit by some type of firebomb. Instead of retreating the Con's arm returned. Just as it was about to grab him a massive door slammed down on the arm, immobilizing it. Sam still could not move. The other humans around him had moved flattened themselves against the walls of the large space.

It was Spindle who broke Sam from his paralysis. He grabbed Sam's hand and urged him against the wall. Still panting and dazed from shock Sam picked Spindle up and waited while the sounds of the battle outside filled the room. The other humans were similarly quiet, though some spoke amongst themselves.

Sam could see Runamuck was fighting to pull his arm out from under the door. He had it about halfway out when a bright white light cut through the dim emergency lighting of the room. A section of the floor to Sam's right was lifting up quite rapidly. Sam could see the outline of a mech standing within the white light. _It's a giant elevator,_ Sam realized.

The mech stepped out and rushed to Runamuck's arm. Grabbing a hold of it the blue and grey mech pulled it back into the room. Sam watched as a large rotary blade shifted out of the mech's arm and came down on the Con's. Wincing at the sound of metal on metal Sam watched as the new mech cut off the captured limb.

Shortly after the sounds of battle outside the room ceased and the blue and grey mech stopped cutting. Turning to the humans the mech scanned them and asked in a deep voice "Are any of you injured?"

The humans responded with various forms of "no" and the mech nodded. Turning to the outer wall he deactivated the doorway, allowing the humans to move back out onto the street. Walking slowly with the crowd Sam approached the mech, still clasping Spindle to his chest.

"Ratchet?"

Turning his head at the sound of his name, Ratchet had to grab the lip of the doorway in order to stay standing.

"Sam?"

Smiling wryly, Sam greeted his old friend. "Yeah, it's me. To the MedBay, right?"

Breaking out of his shock, Ratchet knelt down in front of Sam.

**Ratchet to Optimus. We have a situation here. Please report to escape hatch 15R23-1588. NOW!:**

**

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Please review!  
**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok, this was a really, really long chapter to write, for me. I tried to get everything in there that you guys want to see. I should have the next chapter out in the a couple days. Thank you all for your reviews, I really appreciate it and can't wait to get more. I know some people are commenting on the cliffhangers, and I promise, I really try not to write them that way, but it's like I get to a good part and just can't write the rest of it. I am trying, though.  
**

**Also, I have posted a poll on my profile on whether I should slash this story or not, and if so, which pairing. Please stop by and vote. So far it's Optimus/Sam for the win. **

**And please, please review. It really motivates my writing. Thanks again!**

Breem: 8.3 minutes

Stellar cycle: 7.5 months

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

**

* * *

**

While Sam and Spindle walked along the city streets in search of Optimus and an alt-form for Spindle, the mech in question was busy contemplating the strange presence which had infiltrated his processors just 3.614 breems ago.

Shifting unhappily on his pedes, Ratchet explained the results of his scans. "I've scanned you with every possible filter, Optimus. The scans show nothing unusual. No viruses seem to be present and your memory core does not seem to be breached. I cannot explain what you experienced."

"Thank you for trying, Ratchet. It was a most strange feeling. Familiar, but also alien at the same time. Whatever it was, it knows where I am. I feel we should meet this entity and determine whether it is a threat, or an ally." Optimus turned to Ironhide and his faceplates lifted a little as he saw Ironhide standing ready for battle.

"Be prepared. If this intrusion into my processors was Decepticon related, we may need your cannons. It has been almost a stellar cycle since the Con's have attempted a direct assault. It makes me wary. We will wait here and monitor the activity on the streets. I do not think whoever it was is far from here."

Grunting an affirmation Ironhide moved towards the nearest wall. As he approached he sent a databurst to the network grid, summoning an access elevator to the surface, just in case.

* * *

In the time since Sam had left for parts unknown the battles between the factions had intensified. Great damage was done to major cities in every country in the world. Within ten years it was impossible for NEST to keep the secret of the Cybertronians anymore.

They became public knowledge after a particularly disastrous mission in Lagos, Nigeria. Nearly five hundred thousand civilians were killed when Decepticon Seekers decimated a section of the inner city in the Decepticon's attempt to control Nigeria as a whole. Though Cybertronians needed Energon to ultimately survive, possession of the oil-rich nation would mean a steady supply of crude fuel which could be refined to a useable state. The Autobots could not allow the Decepticon's to gain such a strategic advantage without a fight. Ultimately, seeing the loss of human life and acknowledging the Decepticon's superior forces, Optimus ordered a retreat. Just after the battle the presence of the alien transformers was revealed to the public.

However, the unmasking came with a bonus which nearly negated the effects of losing Nigeria to the Con's. Surprisingly, the world, for the most part, came out on the side of the Autobot's. Only a few nations, weak to begin with and sensing an opportunity to move up the power hierarchy, allied themselves to the Con's. The rest saw sense and placed their full support with the Autobots.

It was with this support that the Bots were able to use the funds and natural resources to cement their positions in several major cities. Los Angeles was one of them. The Los Angeles Air Force Base was expanded and served as the main command hub for the Western United States. Five 'Bots were permanently stationed at the base with the rest spread out across the world. Nations which supported the Autobots, particularly with money, wanted to have at least one 'Bot to call their own. The high-ranking 'Bots transferred between the various bases as needed, but Los Angeles, not far from Tranquility where it had all began, was considered home base.

In Los Angeles, an extensive underground tunnel system was constructed. Security cameras with sensor capabilities were placed throughout the city above, and after a couple attacks within the city the 'Bot's developed escape hatches throughout the city for the humans to take shelter within. A warning system was also put in place to inform humans throughout the city of a hostile attack. The system constantly tracked spark energy signals, reporting their every move to Red Alert.

* * *

It was this warning system which allowed Optimus, Ratchet, and Ironhide to know instantly of Runamuck's presence in the streets above them. Rising to their feet as the alarms began to sound, Optimus paused as Red Alert's voice came over the comm link.

_**Prime, this is Red Alert. A lone Decepticon is running up South Grand Avenue, one block north from your current location. Target is unknown but sensors indicate at least one spark is present. There may be a second. I'll attempt to identify. Red Alert, out.**_

_**Acknowledged. We will move to intercept. Notify me if you can determine what he's after. Prime, out.**_

"Ironhide, you're with me. Ratchet, remain in the tunnels and move to flank the 'Con."

Dashing into the waiting elevator Optimus and Ironhide fed the tracking information Red Alert was continuously feeding them into their map of the city. The elevator began to rise as they watched Ratchet's blue and grey form disappear down the tunnel.

Upon reaching the surface they could tell that they would not be able to navigate the streets in alt-form. The citizens of Los Angeles had done their best to move their vehicles to the sides of the streets, knowing the Autobots would come to help them, but it was an older part of town, and space was limited.

Thankfully, most of the humans in this area had already reached the escape hatches. The main stream of humans was down South Grand Avenue, away from the con's position.

Picking their way along the street, managing to avoid the majority of the cars, Optimus and Ironhide turned the corner. They could see the 'Con running up the avenue, taking no care to avoid the fleeing humans or their vehicles. As they made their way towards the 'Con they saw his attempt to stop force his pedes to skid out beneath him. As they got closer, priming their weapons to take him down, they saw him reaching into an escape hatch's open doorway.

Ironhide took first action, hitting the 'Con in the chest with an incendiary grenade which exploded on contact. As intended, the grenade caused enough pain to delay the 'Con from his goal. The distraction allowed Optimus to direct a databurst to the escape hatch's door mechanism, commanding it to close, thus immobilizing the arm. Moving closer now that the humans within the escape hatch were safe from shrapnel, Optimus and Ironhide ducked as the 'Con began firing in their direction. A lucky shot struck Ironhide in the shoulder, spinning him back onto the ground. He did not appear to be able to get up.

_**Red Alert to Optimus Prime. I have identified the Decepticon. It is Runamuck, a mid-level Decepticon courier/scout. I have been unable to identify his target. Also, the second Spark signature remains unknown. It does not match any of our records. **_

_**Excellent, Red Alert. This battle should be over shortly. Prime, out. **_

As Optimus closed the comm link, he saw Runamuck being pulled into the escape hatch. With Ironhide down Optimus knew he must end the battle as soon as possible. With that in mind, Optimus charged Runamuck's position, firing directly into the 'Con's spark chamber.

Confirming Runamuck was offline, Optimus ran back to Ironhide, who was just now regaining his pedes.

"Damn 'Con. Figures he'd hit me there. Ratchet is still waiting on the parts to repair my armor from our last battle. Almost six months now. Something about military requisition officers and chain of command. Slaggin' cheap humans." Ironhide grumbled quietly, checking on the damage and running system diagnostics as Optimus surveyed the damage incurred by the brief skirmish. Behind him humans started trickling out of the escape hatch Runamuck had been so interested in.

_**Ratchet to Optimus. We have a situation here. Please report to escape hatch 15R23-1588. NOW!**_

Optimus could hear the urgency in Ratchet's voice and turned back towards the escape hatch. "Ironhide, keep an optic on the humans leaving the escape hatch. Perhaps we can determine who or what Runamuck was after."

It took Optimus a few minutes to reach the escape hatch as humans were now flooding the street from nearby escape hatches. When he finally reached Ratchet his CMO was kneeling on the floor of the escape hatch, one hand on the ground cupping something while the other worked quickly on his helm, shifting through different scan types. Ratchet's hand obscured the object he was so interested in so Optimus announced his presence with what the humans termed a "clearing of the throat" noise.

Ratchet scooped the object of interest into his hand and Optimus heard a squawk that sounded like indignation before Ratchet moved back into the escape hatch, summoning Optimus with his free hand. The fit was a little tight for the Prime, but he managed. Ratchet was not known for subtlety, let alone secrecy, so this must be something of great importance, probably Runamuck's target.

**Ratchet, what have you found? Oh and Ironhide has sustained some damage. **

"Optimus, it's not possible. My scans all tell me the same thing, but it just can't be. It's NOT. POSSIBLE. Look!"

Ratchet uncurled his hand and showed its contents to Optimus.

"Sam?"

Shaking his head, Sam looked up at the leader of the Autobots, Prime to Cybertron, and his much missed friend.

"Hello, Optimus. Yes, it's me, Sam."

"But, it's not possible! You should be an old man! This must be some Decepticon trick."

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face a little in frustration. "I am not a Decepticon trick, Pretender, whatever. It's really me, Op'. It's a very long and painful story and I REALLY only want to tell it once. Can we please just go somewhere? And Ratchet should really tend to Ironhide. If we wait much longer you know he'll just say he's fine even if he's not." In the excitement, neither mech realized Sam had understood Optimus when he spoke in Cybertronian.

"Hm. The boy has a point. I suggest we return to headquarters, Prime. My scans detect nothing which could bring harm to the base."

"Very well. I've commed Ironhide. We'll use the tunnels. Give me the boy. You will need your servos free for Ironhide. It's that shoulder."

"Wonderful. As if there was any chance in this fragging universe that it _wouldn't_ be the shoulder." Ratchet sniped as he shifted Sam over to the Prime.

_**You're right, Sam, he is sarcastic like me. **_Spindle intruded in the conversation, flying up to land on Sam's lap. Upon seeing Spindle, Optimus shifted a little and knocked Sam over to his side.

_**Optimus to Red Alert. I believe I have found the source of the second Spark. Seems to be a mini-con of unknown origin. We're returning to base. We can add its information to the database then and determine its allegiance. **_

Without waiting for a reply Optimus closed the comm link and looked down at Sam. The Prime had his doubts, but looking at the boy in his palm the Prime felt his doubt melt away. "It is so good to see you, my friend. You have been missed. I deduce, given Mikaela's absence that.. she is no longer with us?"

Sam lowered his head and took a few shaky breaths. _**Way to be sensitive, you overgrown heap! Now look what you did!**_ Spindle commed angrily, glaring up at the Prime.

Realizing his mistake, Optimus quickly apologized as Sam shushed Spindle.

"That's ok, Optimus. You deduce correctly. Mikaela, she…" The arrival of Ironhide interrupted Sam, breaking the thick air of sadness.

"Sam?"

"You know, I'm really getting tired of hearing my name spoken like that. Yes, Ironhide, it's me. As I've said twice now, it's really me, Ratchet-verified and everything. The helicopter here is Spindle. I'm going to explain everything, just at the base where everyone can hear at once. Maybe you should let the base know, Optimus. Save everyone the shock."

Nodding, Optimus sent the message to the resident mech's at the base, wincing as they bombarded his comm frequency with responses and demands for answers. Only Sideswipe and Jolt knew Sam personally, but every Autobot had been told of those humans who had helped forge the original alliance between Autobot and humanity. The story of Sam had always invoked the most awe and amazement.

Optimus sent a generic "See you soon" in reply and the mech's entered the tunnels. Optimus placed Sam and Spindle on the ground and transformed into a very similar vehicle to the semi Sam was familiar with only the flame decals were green, blue, and white. Sam noticed the engine was nearly silent which was the biggest change to be noticed.

Climbing aboard Optimus, Sam watched as Spindle flew over into Ratchet's alt-form. "Ratchet wishes to examine Spindle. He noticed he does not speak and there appears to be some damage to the vocal processors."

"Ah, yeah. That's, uh, part of the story." Sam still felt guilty about that.

"Well, sit back and relax, Sam. It should take us about 20 minutes to reach the base."

Nodding, Sam laid back and closed his eyes. There might not be much engine noise, but the rumbling of the Prime's tires was enough to lull Sam into a much needed rest. Optimus, noticing Sam had nodded off, tinted his windows and slowly reclined Sam's seat.

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**A/N: If you want to kill me, I completely understand. Will have next chapter out ASAP. Please review, and don't forget to vote in the poll. Thank you all so much.**


	8. Chapter 7

**AN: **Alright, so a couple days turned into a week… or two…. Life sucks sometimes. I failed my motorcycle license road test by 5 points! And after a 3 day course of waking up at 6:30 am! And cost $285! I was understandably depressed.

So, sorry about the wait. I wasn't in love with my last chapter; hopefully this one is better. Dialogue is not a strong point for me. It's easier to describe a wall than it is to make two characters talk and not sound cheesy. If you all have any suggestions on it, I'd love to hear them!

Thank you to all who voted in the poll and of course thank you so much to all my reviewers!

Ok, it's chapter-time.

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When Sam woke he was startled by the sight of a vaguely familiar face looking in at him through Optimus' windshield. The mech, seeing him awake, lifted away and backed up, gesturing to the others, of whom Sam could only see legs. Realizing they had reached the base, Sam climbed out of the cab, standing to one side as Optimus transformed. Looking around, Sam could see Spindle flying around Ratchet and between the legs of a mech-sized metal table sitting in the center of the room. Including Optimus, Ironhide and Ratchet, there appeared to be seven mech's in the room. Before anyone could speak, Optimus spoke, gathering the attention of the mech's.

"My friends, today is a great day, one I never thought to see. Our oldest and best friend on this planet has returned to us. Most of you knew him personally, and all Autobots have been told of his great bravery and loyalty, without which we would never have been able to achieve what we have today. Mechs, I present Samuel Witwicky. Sam, welcome to the Los Angeles base. One of seven bases at which we maintain a permanent presence, and headquarters to this part of the United States."

Pointing to the mech who had been peering in at him earlier Optimus introduced Jolt. Jolt bobbed his head and waved a little, a big smile on his faceplates. "This," pointing to an eager green and white mech, "is Wheeljack. And of course you've already met Ratchet and Ironhide."

Optimus proffered his hand to Sam, watching carefully as he climbed onto his palm. Once Sam was secure Optimus stepped towards the table, the others following in his stead.

"Hey yo Prime, don't ferget us!" Optimus turned to see two small mechs tussling for attention.

"Yea, what's going on Wonder Boy? Shouldn't you be waitin' fer the Reaper?"

Sam flinched as the sound of metal on metal reverberated through the room and winced as Skids and Mudflap went flying in opposite directions to land heavily on their afts, courtesy of Ironhide.

Sam grinned in nostalgia. "I see the twins haven't changed much."

"No," Ironhide grumbled ominously, "They haven't."

With the twins suitably chastised, the mechs gathered around the table. Sam climbed down onto its surface and watched as Optimus manipulated a section of the table surface. Before he could ask what the Prime was doing, Sam startled a little as a section of metal on the table surface rose up and formed into a human sized chair. A quiet clicking noise was emanating from the floor and before long Sam saw mech-sized chairs rising from the floor. "That's cool." Sam whispered and settled into his own surprisingly comfortable chair.

"This entire base has been designed with Cybertronian/human interaction in mind." Optimus rumbled. "You'll find few places here that you cannot access solely due to being human."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear the alliance is still strong."

An awkward pause followed as both realized the time for Sam's explanation had come. With a sigh, Sam began his and Mikaela's story.

"First, I want to say that I've missed you all. Mikaela missed you even more. After it became apparent that I would never get the normal life I craved, she wanted to come back. But I couldn't. I just couldn't take the risk that Mikaela would end up dead."

"Sam, what exactly happened to you? My scans don't indicate anything beyond a slightly elevated energy reading." As Ratchet spoke he scanned Sam yet again.

"A few years after we left Mikaela and I started to try for a baby. A few years passed and still nothing. Mikaela went to a specialist and it wasn't a problem with her. So I went. The nurse tried to take a blood sample. The needle.. it.. bent against my skin. We tried another needle and the same thing happened. I left and at home I had Mikaela try her best to cut me with a steak knife." Sam chuckled as he remembered Mikaela in that moment. Scared to hurt him, but so strong for him at the same time. God, he didn't know how he could be whole without her.

"Years passed and we accepted that children just weren't on the agenda. We got over that. But no, life wasn't done with me yet. It was Mikaela who realized I wasn't aging. Every day I looked for signs of age. Nothing. I've been like this for the past thirty-five years. I can't tell you how badly I took it, and how long it took to be able to look at myself without freaking out. Spindle there was the result of one of my first freak outs. I caught sight of myself in the toaster he once was and picked it up to destroy it. Instead, I brought it to life. "

**And promptly whacked me with a skillet, you slagger. **Spindle seemed to pout from his position on Ratchet's shoulder.

"Well, in my defense, I did bring you back. But thank you so much, Spindle. For being there for me." Sam's voice shook slightly. "I don't know what I would have done without your snarky butt to keep me company."

Spindle clicked a little in sympathy and waited for Sam to continue. Optimus stroked his back in commiseration. Once Sam had gathered himself together he continued.

"After that Mikaela and I just tried our best to adapt to the situation. Eventually I became her nephew, then her grandson, in the eyes of the public. It wasn't ideal, but what could we do? Time passed and Mikaela became ill. She didn't want doctors and medicine no matter how I pleaded. After everything that had happened I think she just wanted to pass on in peace. Right before she… she made me promise that I'd find you guys. After, afterwards, I buried her in the backyard. After that I only remember bits an pieces. I remember meeting Spindle, driving and more driving, until I kind of woke up somewhere in the middle of Canada."

Sam spent the next hour or so retelling his and Spindle's journey to Los Angeles, including his new abilities and senses. When Sam began relating his encounter with Runamuck, the mechs broke out several times in conversation, discussing the ramifications of the attack.

Eventually Sam finished his story and he leaned back tiredly, watching the bots debate everything that his story, his abilities, entailed. Spindle flew down to him, landing on his lap and cuddling Sam a little.

**That was hard on you. Harder than you're letting it show. It'll be ok, Sam. I'll always be here for you. **

Holding Spindle close, Sam whispered his thanks to Spindle. Everything was finally taking its toll on Sam. He could feel his eyes getting heavy and his head began drooping back against the chair. He knew if he waited just a second or two he would be quite happily drowsing.

Leaning back to do just that, BAM! Sam jerked awake as the door slid open and a blurry shape reeled into the room, arms pin wheeling as what Sam supposed was a mech tried desperately to regain his balance. The mech's loud arrival hardly went unnoticed by the others and a silence took over the room as the mech regained his footing.

Sam's tiredness had fled a little with the intrusion and he rose from his seat, trying to get a better view of the new mech. But before he could even properly see the mech, Sam knew who it had to be. The colors might have changed a little but Sam knew.

As if summoned by his thought alone, the mech stepped toward the head of the table. A soft warble and clicking emanated from the mech as he reached down to pick Sam up, cradling him against his chest.

"Bee.." Sam whispered.

"S..am.."

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**AN:** Hope you liked it. I promise not to leave it so long next time. Also, should be a lot more action in the next chapter and not so much rehashing of past events. Please review! It makes me so happy!


	9. Chapter 8

**AN:** Ok, so I'm not the most reliable when it comes to updates. Sorry about the wait on this one.

As always, thank you so much for all your reviews, alerts, and favorites. It's what keeps me motivated to keep writing. I noticed there was as much traffic on the last chapter, so I hope you're not getting bored. If there is anything you guys and gals would like to see, please let me know. I'd love to know what you see in this fic.

Anyway, on with the fic.

* * *

_**Bridge of the Nemesis**_

_Prior to Runamuck's arrival in Los Angeles_

Soundwave had not left the bridge since he had first detected the spike in Allspark energy and reported it to Megatron. When Runamuck was dispatched to intercept the source of the signal, Soundwave monitored the scout's progress across the North American continent. It soon became probable to Soundwave that the Allspark source was moving towards the Autobot-controlled city of Los Angeles. His cassetticons, mainly Frenzy, had been diligently attempting to break into the city's security system for some time now. For the time being, small mechs could evade an exact sensor fix long enough to accomplish small tasks but any mech larger than Ravage would provide enough of an energy signal to trigger the city's security system. The Decepticon's could move about the city under the scrutiny of the Autobots, but any suspicious activity or aggression would bring the Autobots out in force.

Being a mini-bot and therefore more difficult to detect, Frenzy had just recently had some success in infiltrating a sector of the city security system. Full control was not yet in hand, but perhaps eventually the Decepticons would be able to move unnoticed within the city limits and crush the Autobots from within. Frenzy had installed a so-far undetected backdoor program which allowed the Decepticon's access to the city's camera system. With this access Soundwave could track the movements of the Autobots and Runamuck, should he reach the city as Soundwave predicted.

Soundwave, a mech renowned for his cold calculation and telepathic abilities, was one of Megatron's most loyal lieutenants currently present on the dirtball known as Earth. But, loyal as he was, Soundwave did not agree with Megatron's grandiose strategies. The ratio of gain and loss rarely came out in the Decepticon's favor. Soundwave felt assured that should Los Angeles be the Allspark's destination, Runamuck would not be capable of making it out of the city alive without support. Support that Soundwave, knowing Runamuck to be less than completely loyal to Megatron, did not intend on allowing.

With a more subtle plan in mind, Soundwave pinged his creator-bond with Frenzy and found the little hacker in recharge, just outside the city limits and its sensor net. Soundwave sent a data package for Frenzy's immediate review and opened a comm link to Megatron.

_**Soundwave: requesting audience with Lord Megatron. **_

Waiting, it was not long before Megatron commed for Soundwave to join him in the aft observatory. Leaving command of the bridge with Thundercracker, who had just come on duty, Soundwave made his way to Megatron.

"Lord Megatron: Runamuck in pursuit of Allspark source. Likely that Los Angeles will be destination. Probability of confrontation with Autobots: High. Probability of Decepticon victory: Low, without support."

Megatron did not move from his position at the viewport, his servos resting on his pelvis as he stared pensively down on the ridges and valleys of a massive mountain range on the planet below. Megatron did not acknowledge Soundwave's presence for several moments. Turning his head to glance at Soundwave, Megatron nodded for Soundwave to outline his plan. It would involve sacrifices, but Soundwave had never liked Runamuck anyway.

After laying out his strategy, Soundwave waited in silence for final approval from his Lord. It came after several breems in the form of a nod and a low, gravelly voice filling the room.

"Do it. And do not fail."

Bowing, Soundwave left the aft observatory and headed back to the bridge, ignoring the duty schedule. He would never admit it, and most wouldn't think him capable of it, but Soundwave was looking forward to hearing Runamuck's cries for help, and denying them…

* * *

_**Present time.**_

_**Autobot base**_

For the first time since Mikaela's passing Sam felt completely safe, cuddled as he was against Bee's chest plates. From here he could feel the warmth of Bee's spark. Sam could hear Bee clicking happily above him as the scout stroked his back gently, obviously overjoyed to have his best friend back again. Sam leaned against Bee, the stroking lulling him into a state of mental relaxation. He was content where he was and the world outside Bumblebee's servos faded away. It wasn't long before Sam succumbed to a gentle sleep, the excitement of his reunion with Bee proving too much for his exhausted body.

The mech's watched as guardian and charge were reunited, quiet as they watched the youngest Autobot display more happiness than he had since Sam and Mikaela had left all those years ago. In the forefront of every mech's processor was the hope that with Sam's return, Bumblebee would regain the cheerful nature he had once been known for.

It was only after Sam had fallen asleep and Bumblebee's attention had drifted back to the mech's in the room that the mech's broke their silence.

Looking at Skids and Mudflap, Optimus spoke with an edge of annoyance in his tone. "Which one of you informed Bumblebee of Sam's presence? You two should know better than to transmit this kind of sensitive information with Soundwave in orbit! What were you thinking?"

The twins were vocally protesting their innocence when Jolt stepped forward, nervously bobbing his head. "Uh, actually Prime, I'm the one who told Bee. I reasoned that the 'Con's probably already have a visual of Sam from Runamuck. I knew Bee was about to deploy from Edwards Air Force Base and I thought, well, that you'd end up calling him back anyway."

Sighing a little, Optimus took a moment to calm himself before speaking. "While well thought out, Jolt, it was still a very risky action. However, I understand your eagerness to see Bumblebee happy again. Please see that a room is cleared that is suitable for Sam, Bumblebee, and Spindle here. After that you can take Bumblebee's place. I'm sure our fellow mech's will want to know what has happened."

Nodding, Jolt left the room quickly. The other mechs, now standing in reaction to Bee's less than co-ordinated entrance, looked around aimlessly, their previous topic of conversation forgotten.

"I think we've had enough excitement for the day. I doubt Sam will awake from his sleep any time soon. Let us all adjourn for the day. We can continue this tomorrow." Nodding, the mech's left the room, Ratchet taking Spindle to the Med Bay to examine his vocal processors and Bumblebee finding a quiet spot before heading to the room Jolt was preparing.

Opening the most secure channel he could to Red Alert, who was currently upgrading the security of their base in Bombay, Optimus requested Red Alert notify them of any hint of a spark signature in the city. Optimus found it hard to believe that the Decepticons would fail to react to this turn of events. It was likely that this would push them to the first full scale confrontation in almost a year, especially if Jolt was right and Megatron knew Sam had returned.

It was just a matter of waiting and preparing as best they could for the unknown.

* * *

In the city outskirts, located among older buildings, Frenzy awoke from his recharge. This was his favorite place to recharge in all of North America. It was a little metal box perfectly placed in an out of the way corner of a rooftop. It allowed him a perfect view of the streets below, several escape routes, and best of all, Frenzy could enjoy the sun without getting his pede's all sticky with the tar and pitch the human's still used here.

Stretching his limbs out, Frenzy lazily looked down on the streets below him as he opened the first of two data packages he'd received during his recharge. His creator must be in a secretive mood on this new mission; the data encryption took even Frenzy a few moments to break. This made Frenzy grumble a little. The last thing he liked was a problem straight out of recharge. But reading the contents of the data packages Frenzy could forgive his Creator. Finally, a mission with a tangible goal.

Cackling a little to himself Frenzy hopped down from his rooftop perch and hit the alley between the two buildings. Remaining unseen Frenzy accessed this town's wi-fi network and ordered up some transportation. Funny how convenience for the humans could provide such a useful tool to their enemies. Wi-Fi networks, cameras, and especially the remote accessible, computer driven taxi's at their every beck and call. With a simple credit card transaction, Frenzy need only wait for his rental can to come to him. This would be a mission to remember…

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**AN: **Review? :::puppy dog eyes::: Please?


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**Uh.. yeah... no excuse on the wait besides losing the muse for a while. I'm back right now and this is just a half-chapter in thanks to the reviewers and all those who favorited and alerted. I honestly didn't think I'd be back writing this but the muse bit and bit hard so, if all goes well, there should be another longer chapter to come. It's just very late at night and I don't have the time to continue. So I apologize for the short chapter. I'm going to stop writing now or I won't make any sense.

Breem: 8.3 minutes

Stellar cycle: 7.5 months

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

* * *

After surveying the surroundings for any observers, Frenzy scurried into the waiting auto-cab. Once inside he wasted no time overriding the cab's cameras. Anyone reviewing the cab's logs would see a plain faced, middle aged man in average middle class clothing sag into the backseat, his face red and sweaty with the day's heat. Mopping his forehead with a slightly yellowed handkerchief, the man leaned back into the seat and gave the computer his destination.

Safely and untraceably on his way, Frenzy hunkered down in the seat, below the window line. Bringing up a detailed schematic of the city's infrastructure on his internal display, he began to plot a path which would bring him to his destination undetected.

* * *

Late the next morning found Sam still asleep in the quarters Jolt had secured for him, Bumblebee faithfully at his side, forgoing recharge even in the safety of the base. Ratchet had stopped by earlier, hoping to speak with Sam, but left disappointed with only a partial scan and a memory cycle of blue optics flashing and an unfamiliar song lyric. Bumblebee was usually much better at selecting appropriate lyrics to supplement his damaged vocalizer, but given how frazzled the mech must be, Thin Lizzy's "Get Out of Here" was sufficiently clear.

Deciding to take his energon ration before returning to his Medbay, Ratchet walked on towards the mech and human commissary. The commissary was actually one of the best examples of human/Autobot cooperation, besides their coordinated battle tactics. It was constructed of a complicated series of floor level and balcony dining areas interspersed throughout the room, allowing the Autobots and humans to dine together without hindering either species. NEST used this room to familiarize new recruits with the Autobots in a relatively informal setting while the Autobots used the setting to hold large scale meetings when necessary, the room's size and elevated communal areas facilitating face to face conversation.

Upon entering, Ratchet immediately noticed a difference in the normal flow of the room. Usually there was a fair amount of mingling and loud conversation between the two groups, the humans twisting in their chairs or reseating themselves to involve themselves in different conversations. To the left of the room a large area was sectioned off with soundproof glass, access available only to the high-ranking Autobots and NEST personnel. This was the officer's area. Given their mutual dependence on each other officers and enlisted frequently ate together, rank foregone for the company of people who uniquely understood the trials of their chosen career.

However, this morning was decidedly different. The officers had secluded themselves in their section with Optimus and Ironhide, the body language of both human and mech screaming tension. The enlisted personnel and those officers not in the know were huddled together, eating quietly and casting furtive glances towards their commanders.

The meeting must have been going on for some time. It was nearing afternoon and Ratchet recognized officers in the meeting who covered the day shift and some remained from the night shift. Hesitating, Ratchet debated just foregoing his ration and sneaking away before he was noticed. His approach to diplomacy was much the same as his bedside manner, coarse and unrefined yet, unfortunately for Ratchet, intelligent and accurate. It led to more boring strategizing sessions then Ratchet had the patience for.

But it was too late. Ratchet's musing had cost him his opportunity to escape to the isolation of his Medbay. Optimus had noticed him and waved him over. Though he might dislike strategy sessions, Ratchet was too good a soldier to disobey his Prime. With an internal sigh Ratchet obtained his energon ration and with measured steps entered what he was sure would be the source of yet another processor-ache.

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Review! Please? Please? Please? Hope you liked it!


	11. Chapter 10

**AN:** Alrighty, another chapter, this one longer. As always, thank you to all my reviewers and those who favorite and alert! I'm glad you like the story! The must is flowing now, so updates should be fairly regular. I'm about a quarter through the chapter after this one.

Also, I've been meaning to ask y'all. Do you guys and gals prefer "servos, pedes, optics" to "hands, feet, eyes"? I know I've been writing the former, but I wonder how the Transformers fandom feels about the lingo in this instance. Just curious on my part.

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

* * *

With energon ration in servo, Ratchet made his way to the officer's area. About to transmit his access codes he was waylaid by Major Elton Barthune, one of the many humans who had taken an interest in learning basic Cybertronian repairs. It had taken a while for Ratchet to get used to humans in his Medbay, but eventually he found their presence tolerable, even useful at times, and their eagerness to learn was admirable.

"Heading into the war zone, eh Ratch? Woulda thought you'd be full up on battles after yesterday. Surprised you're out of recharge so soon, eh?" The ribbing was delivered gently, Barthune smirking a little at the joke. Barthune had the unfortunate tendency to involve himself with the major Twins when they were in residence and had been present when the Twins impressed on several of the humans the idea that Ratchet was practically geriatric, even in mech time, and that his foul bedside manner was a result of aching joints. For weeks, especially after battles, Ratchet had wondered at the strangely solicitous behavior of those humans he had close contact with, always asking if he'd gotten enough recharge or if they could assume some extra duties for him. When the truth had come out, the Twins had fled on reassignment and Ratchet had yet to impart his revenge. Barthune knew better, _now_, but that didn't stop the jests.

Coming to a halt, Ratchet rolled his optics, promising again to make the major Twins' next exam as painful and long as possible. "I assure you, Major Barthune, I am quite battle ready. But, as any soldier knows, good intel is the key to success. Do you know what they are discussing?" Ratchet had a fair idea, but anything supplemental could lessen his impending aggravation.

Frowning, Barthune confirmed that the meeting had been ongoing for hours. "It started with the standard post-battle debriefing but it's obviously more than that now. A simple skirmish wouldn't generate the pyroclastic displays we've been witnessing. You probably know more than I do."

"Thank you, Major." Ratchet inclined his head in thanks and began moving towards the officer's area.

"Don't fall asleep in there, big guy!" Barthune shot out as he returned to his seat.

Stiffening, pride demanding a response, Ratchet twisted his upper torso to regard the chuckling Major. "I have always known you to be a most helpful human. Do this "old mech" a favor, would you? The minor-Twins are due for some routine maintenance, fluid changes, systems check, etc. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Watching as Barthune went pale, Ratchet chuckled internally and stepped through the now open door. _That will teach him to pay heed to the Twins!_ Ratchet's moment of levity was soon deflated, however, as he took in the state of the meeting. Ironhide shot him an exasperated nod in greeting then returned his attention to the human Colonel presiding over the meeting. Optimus did not spare him any acknowledgement and Ratchet could see his leader was trying very hard not to appear as irritated as he obviously was.

"…beside the point, Optimus! The security footage is clear. Runamuck was chasing someone or something in the city. You return to the base and seclude yourselves in the conference room, requesting the presence of all Autobots. Bumblebee is recalled to base, delaying _our_ deployment schedule, and Jolt is sent in his place. Worse, all footage from that conference room has been erased, ostensibly due to technical error, which, frankly, is total BS! Rumor has it you brought someone or something back to base with you. Now, I understand if you wanted to brief your soldiers first but it's time now that you inform us, as required by treaty! I demand you tell me what is going on before I am forced to seek official involvement!" Slightly red in the face the human official, Colonel David Sadowsky, leaned back in his chair, waiting for Optimus to respond.

Ratchet had not expected this. A strategy session to determine what the Decepticon's next move would be, yes, but Optimus hadn't informed the humans of Sam and Spindle's presence? Shifting on his pedes Ratchet paid closer attention to the human/mech interaction. His role in this meeting was obviously not what he had expected. Deciding he needed more information, he opened a channel to Ironhide, Optimus being too focused to risk distracting.

_**Ironhide, what exactly is going on here? Why hasn't Prime informed the humans of what's happened? **_

Ironhide's attention did not waver, but Ratchet soon had his answers. Busy processing this new information, Ratchet was brought back to present by a rise in Optimus' voice.

"As leader of the Autobots I have every right to withhold information if I deem it to be harmless to any human. As I've been telling you, this information, while sensitive, does not have any bearing on…"

"NO! I don't believe you, Prime. The logic doesn't hold up. If you brought what the Con's wanted here then you've placed the humans here at risk if the Con's decide to pursue their target. And, as you know better than I, they tend to fixate on their goals! Stop trying to pull the wool over my eyes Optimus. This is your last chance to bring me up to speed before you're speaking with the President and the Alliance Council."

Optimus' vents cycled quickly and Ratchet thought he could almost hear the Prime's denta grinding behind his mask. The Prime's shoulders tensed then sagged as if in defeat. Then, relaxing, the Prime began recounting the battle. When he got to the discovery of Sam and Spindle, however, Optimus did not identify them by name, only saying they had recovered a human and a mini-con who appeared to be Runamuck's target. Ironhide's gaze was quite fixed on the back wall and Ratchet forced his expression to remain impassive. He was beginning to see what his purpose here would be.

Relaxing a bit now that Optimus had decided to talk, the Colonel started asking the expected routine questions. "Ok, so you brought this human and mech back to base. We'll need the name of the human and the designation of the mech and we'll need to question them, the human at the very least... Where are they now?"

Pausing, Optimus turned to Ratchet, his optics guarded. Optimus was fairly good at hiding his emotions when necessary. Only a fellow mech would be able to discern the Prime's hidden message. _Ah, a convenient medical excuse, it seems. _

Sighing internally at the utter ridiculousness of the political dance, Ratchet commanded the attention of the human leaders. "The mech is currently in my Medbay, under guard, and is unable to tell us anything of value. His vocalizer is quite damaged." _Not quite true,_ Ratchet mused, _but I might as well get my digs in._

Continuing, Ratchet shot the Colonel a pointed look. "We're still waiting on the parts to repair Ironhide's shoulder armor. Given the small size of this mech and thus the relative delicacy of the required parts, I don't know when the damage can be repaired. As to the human, he is also under guard at this time. While he appears to be slightly malnourished and fatigued, he is basically healthy. However, he is emitting an energy field and we are not certain what its effects on humans would be. Therefore, I have not involved your human medics. Until this issue is resolved, he should not be allowed in the close vicinity of other humans."

Ratchet wondered if he had spoken too much, but the look on Prime's face did not seem displeased, and the three mechs waited while Colonel Sadowsky contemplated Ratchet's explanation, looking from mech to mech as he clicked and unclicked his pen like a metronome.

Moments passed and just as Optimus was about to inquire whether there were further questions, the Colonel finally harrumphed, leaned forward in his seat, and set his pen down, ceasing the incessant _click click click_ which had been irritating Ratchet as well as the Colonel's fellow humans.

"Very well, Optimus. I understand there were extenuating circumstances here, but medical issues or not, we should have been informed immediately of the need for increased security. Do you believe the Con's won't pursue this strange pair?"

"The Con's have been quiet for some time, Colonel. They know they are at a disadvantage in the city. Even if they want these two, they would be foolish to attack. Therefore, I did not see the need to inform you of this until more information could be gathered. I apologize… if this caused any offense."

The colonel eyed the Prime suspiciously but a yawn interrupted his reply. Glancing around to his fellow officer's he could tell they were quite ready to adjourn. Some were even giving him variations of the stink eye.

"Thank you, Optimus. We will adjourn for now. We will discuss this again in two days or when you have more information, whichever is first."

Inclining his head Optimus moved towards the door, a quick look gathering Ratchet and Ironhide to his side. Moving through the commissary towards the hall, Optimus headed towards the nearest meeting room.

* * *

Once inside, with the doors locked, Optimus dropped the polite act, his face mask retracting to reveal lips contorted in a near snarl. Still, conscious of the surveillance system Optimus did not give voice to his frustration. Instead, he opened a three-way commlink with Ratchet and Ironhide, barely waiting for them to accept the comm before beginning a frustrated tirade.

Just listening, Ironhide and Ratchet waited for their leader to calm down. Lately the humans had becoming more and more one-sided in their dealings with the Autobot's, using various one-sided tactics to box the Autobots in, using their fuel and material requirements against them. Optimus didn't want conflict with their allies, but something would have to be done at some point.

_**I have ordered Red Alert to notify me if even a hint of a spark signature is detected in the city. I don't believe Megatron will attack in force, at least not any time soon. Nevertheless, I'll be sending Skids and Mudflap to patrol the city; hopefully they'll detect what Red Alert's sensor grid cannot. We'll need more soldiers on hand. We cannot allow Sam to fall into Decepticon hands. I also want to keep the humans out of this for now. The possibility of Sam being the Allspark, with its power, would be too tempting for them to resist. **_

_**Perhaps we should have at least notified them of a possible threat, Optimus, if only to further the pretense of cooperation. **_Ironhide was growing less and less fond of the humans and their ways. Once Will and his soldiers had died or been lucky enough to retire, the new human leaders had sought to change the balance between the two species. _**We could have Jolt spread recall orders along with the news of Sam's return. That should be enough to get us the help we'll need without alerting the humans or the Decepticon's. The timing will be crucial, but it's doable. **_

_**I agree. But we'll need more information on the movements of the Decepticon's, first. Ratchet, I have an idea on that. But we'll discuss this further at a later time. We can't linger here too long. For now, Ironhide you work out which mechs should be recalled and relay the orders to Jolt. Ratchet, return to your Medbay and do everything you can to repair Spindle, keeping it quiet of course. I will return to my office and attempt to appease the humans. I don't doubt Colonel Sadowsky has caused some kind of stir among his superiors, small though it may be. Pretense, you say, Ironhide. We just might be heading that way... We'll meet again later tonight, hopefully with Sam present and able to speak more. **_

Agreeing, the three mechs left the meeting room and returned to their typical routines. It may have bothered some of them that they were no longer working totally alongside their human allies, but all three tried not to feel as if they'd just been part of a secret meeting.

But really, Optimus should have let the humans raise the security level, at the least…

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**AN: **Please review with any comments! I'm very curious as to what you think of this chapter. It's kind of pivotal. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 11

**AN: **Ok... this is the longest chapter I've ever written. It's almost as long as the longest paper I've written. I'm actually shocked it's this long. Can y'all tell the length amazes me, yet? :-D Anyway, The muse really wouldn't let me stop writing this. And there's more, but I just couldn't keep going. I had to take a break! So, I present you with Chapter 11. The next chapter should kick off the action. I figure the plot is kind of getting stagnant by this point.

Hope you all enjoy! Oh, and to purrpix, I actually never thought about Annabelle. I don't know if I'll use her, but she'll probably be mentioned at some point, now that you reminded me of her.

Thank you, everyone, for your kind words and alerts. Until next time!

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

* * *

_Los Angeles, prior to Sam's arrival to the city and reunion with the Autobots…_

Frenzy's circuitous route took him west through Granada Hills then south through Northridge. At the border of Northridge and Reseda he directed the automated cab to switchback towards the northeast, detouring through North Hills, Panorama City, and then turning southeast towards North Hollywood. From there he maintained a steady south-southeastern route, ending in Silver Lake.

Along the way he had maintained his ruse for the camera of an average human passenger. The man's facial expressions reflected inner turmoil and occasionally he would mumble to himself in fits of annoyance or elation. Frenzy had designed the program for the fake passenger to mimic the attitudes of a man reluctant to go home, a man with a guilty conscience. Frenzy had had the cab stop at all manners of stores, mostly card and gift shops (though there was one stop at a gun shop when the man appeared particularly angry), and these series of stops meant Frenzy's journey had taken twice as long as was necessary.

But Frenzy was close now. He just had to cross the city and he would reach his access point to the city's underground utility conduits. When Frenzy's passenger reappeared in the cab's camera footage he had a large package in his hands from the expensive chocolatier's shop down the street and with a nervous smile he directed the cab to head west, towards Century City.

About halfway, Frenzy's sensors detected two spark signatures approaching from the north. The first was small and unfamiliar to the hacker. The second, however, was very familiar to Frenzy. _Runamuck._ Frenzy, like his creator, had never liked the arrogant scout. Having been on several missions with the larger mech, Frenzy knew him to be a surly companion, always displeased with something or other. Considering that stealthy intelligence recon missions nearly always require patience, Frenzy had had his fill of complaints.

Musing on the irritating mech Frenzy would have greatly enjoyed opening a channel to Runamuck, perhaps tease and confuse him a little with foreknowledge of the scout's fate, but Soundwave's orders were clear and Frenzy powered down as many of his systems as he could to avoid detection. Risking a glimpse as Runamuck passed through an intersection in front of him, Frenzy could barely hold back a maniacal chuckle. _Serves him right…_

* * *

Frenzy had almost reached his destination when the city alarms began flashing. The cab's internal display showed a map of the city, a blue icon indicating Frenzy' s current location and a red icon indicating the source of the disturbance. Red, yellow, and green concentric circles surrounded the red icon, indicating the suggested level of caution. The pedestrians, noticing the general alert, used public displays to view the city's alert system. Though not in the immediate area of disturbance, the pedestrians began moving towards the green zone just a little faster. A man, seeing Frenzy's empty cab, attempted to hop in as the cab was halted at a red light. Frenzy hunkered down in the footwell and triggered the automatic door locks. Frustrated, the man slapped the cab's window, finally walking away with a muttered complaint about buggy programming. Frenzy chittered to himself over the close call and began searching for a suitable location to ditch the cab. It would be too risky now to continue in the cab what with the humans trying their best to leave the area quickly.

Approximately 200 feet ahead a delivery truck, parked with its rear in an alley, was blocking the pedestrian traffic, forcing them to cross the street. Frenzy directed the cab to stop just past the truck. The camera footage indicated the man accepted the charges to his account with a thumbprint verification and, grabbing his parcel, stepped out into the heat of the Los Angeles sun. Frenzy moved quickly and silently into the alleyway, ducking underneath the truck as the delivery personnel returned. Frenzy waited until they were distracted before darting down past a dumpster. He hadn't been able to reach his original access point, what with Runamuck causing a scene, but this would take him straight to it.

As the truck rumbled out to the street its driver glimpsed at her side mirror and had to take a second look. Shaking her head with a slight frown, she dismissed the idea that she had just seen a silver form hopping down into the sewer manhole. _It must be this heat, playing tricks_, she concluded, incorrectly.

* * *

Frenzy made his way west through the sewers, some still in use but most abandoned, towards Brentwood. From there he could gain access to the utility conduits running below the city which, in turn, would grant him access to any area of the city. The Autobots were aware of these conduits, and Red Alert in particular was not happy with the security threat they presented, but the conduits were too extensive to completely remove or reconstruct and too narrow to install all the protections the Autobots would have liked.

They monitored as many as they could, particularly surrounding their base, but Frenzy wouldn't have to worry about that until he was closer. Besides, Frenzy's maps were much better than those the 'Bots had access to. He had personally crawled through every conduit in the city, creating his own city plan, while the Autobots had only the disorganized fleshy "engineers" to rely on. It had taken nearly 6 months to complete the map, but it had been well worth it. The going was slow, but much safer than surface travel.

By the time Frenzy had reached the base, either using unmonitored tunnels or bypassing the security, it was late in the evening. Moving stealthily through the base's various ducts and other access tunnels, energy dampening system on full, Frenzy made his way to the nearest unguarded computer interface. Because he couldn't risk outside contact as he made his way towards the base, he didn't know whether or not the Autobots had returned yet from the earlier skirmish. This concerned him; he didn't want to miss any important information.

He headed down into the bowels of the base towards the seldom used storage areas. From there he quickly found a suitable interface tucked away in a corner near a vent grate. The hack into base security would not be terribly difficult, at least for his first task. The Autobots had spent much time and effort upgrading and even rebuilding the base computer network. This led to a complicated interplay between impenetrable and vulnerable systems on which Frenzy could capitalize, using weaker systems as backdoors into those better protected. The 'Cons had never been able to hack the entire system, but the Autobots had mostly relied on the human substructure for on-base security surveillance and it wasn't long before Frenzy was settled into the venting duct, hidden from view by the grate, using his internal displays to search the base for Prime and his minions.

His search ended quickly and quite fortuitously. He had found the Autobots gathered together in a conference room not far from a tunnel access. The meeting appeared to have just begun when Frenzy tapped into the feed. Manipulating the cameras, Frenzy zoomed in on the object of the 'Bots' attention and promptly clenched his servos into fists, attempting to ward off an impending system shut down. The shock was almost too much for the glitchy little hacker, the sight of that infernal human nuisance whose girlfriend had beheaded him. As Frenzy listened to Sam's story and watched in disgust the reunion between mech and boy, he was hard pressed not to release a howl of rage. That the AllSpark had manifested itself in this puny human, a human allied to the 'Bots no less, galled him to no end.

He watched and listened as the Prime adjourned the meeting for the night, still unable to process the idea that not only was the boy back, but that Frenzy couldn't kill him, what with being the bearer of the AllSpark! Frenzy mused bitterly on the unfairness of the universe as he returned his attention to his present location. He was tempted to leave the base in order to inform his creator of what he had found, but knowing what he knew now, it was imperative that he succeed in his second task. And for that he would need access to a more central interface. Frenzy relegated his more extreme emotions for later contemplation and brought up what diagrams he had of the Autobot base.

* * *

_The morning after Sam's return to base…_

Sam slept in a pile of blankets and pillows laid out on one of the two mech-sized berths in the quarters Jolt had secured for them. In the other, Bumblebee sat quietly, his optics fixated on the small boy he had such a kinship with. He had not moved from his position since he had laid Sam down to sleep. At first he had been so overwhelmed by the sheer physical presence of the boy he had missed for so long that he forgot to cycle his vents, only doing so when overheating warnings popped up on his HUD. Later, he did not even really see the boy, memory cycles playing in his processor, overwhelming him with remembered emotions. But even as he lost himself to memory, he remained completely aware of every nuance of the boy, the room, and the world outside, a world he was determined Sam would never leave him alone in again.

It had not been a pleasant six decades for Bumblebee. He had respected Sam's decision to leave, understood his motives, but watching them getting into that normal car, allowing them to drive away, had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. He almost chased after them when they were nearly out of view, only Optimus's whispered _"Let him go_" stopped him. Things were not the same after Sam and Mikaela left. _He_ was not the same. For a while he had put on a brave face, done his duty as a soldier. But over time the stress of not knowing began to eat at him. Bumblebee couldn't help but to envision the various dangers to which they could have fallen prey. He missed them terribly, but he would have been comforted if he could only know they were alright.

Several times over the first decade he had decided that he had to find them. He had to _know_. But each time as he prepared to leave, something stopped him, be it a battle or a call to duty he couldn't ignore for the stakes were too high. He was forced to put aside his desires for the greater good. There was a brief time, after the 'Bots went public, that Bumblebee hoped that they might seek him out, now that human-Autobot interaction no longer required secrecy. It was doubtful the 'Con's would follow every Autobot to every human they made contact with, what with the extensive public relations trips the Autobot's conducted. The 'Cons might never know the 'Bots had re-established contact with their long lost friends.

But when nothing happened, and more time passed, Bumblebee began to doubt. Should he really try to find them? They probably never told anyone of their association with the Autobots. Sam had been near fanatical over Mikaela's protection. Even if Bumblebee did find them, the reception probably wouldn't be what he wanted. More time passed and Bumblebee agonized over his desire to see them, especially as Sam and Mikaela got older and older. Finally, Bumblebee decided he would leave to find them, reception be damned. He couldn't just let them die without seeing them one last time.

But over the years, his fellow Autobot's, Optimus and Ratchet in particular, had kept a close watch on Bumblebee, fearing he might ultimately succumb to his depression and cease being the mech they knew and cared for. So when Bumblebee finally made up his mind to leave he could not fool his friends, now so experienced in judging his moods by sight. He would have left just a scant two nights ago had Optimus not ordered him to leave for their foreign bases, the task Jolt would now be commandeering.

Even under direct orders from his Prime, Bumblebee would still have left, abandoning the mission given to him and departing from the city in search of his human friends. Would have, but Optimus was not Prime without reason, and he requested Bumblebee transport two high-ranking humans to the airfield. And even then Bumblebee would not have been on that flight, even if he had to cause a diplomatic incident to escape. But Jolt's communiqué had changed everything. He had his best friend back.

Bumblebee's concentration was broken by the door alert requesting access. The sound caused Sam to mumble and turn over before returning to a deeper sleep. Bumblebee was about to tell whoever it was to come back later when the door lock was overridden and Ratchet stepped through. Bumblebee, processor slowed by skipped recharge and a night of reminiscing, was slow to react and Ratchet had already started to scan Sam when Bumblebee lurched off the berth, optics narrowed. His only goal was to ensure Sam got the rest he needed. The time for scans and questions could come later. Barely trying, Bumblebee's speaker blared out a snippet of a song and a squeal of static. This, combined with his determined semi-charge, forced Ratchet from the room.

Had Bumblebee been thinking clearly, he would have just commed Ratchet. But he was not thinking clearly. As he pivoted to return to his berth and resume his silent contemplation, he saw Sam sitting up, eyes open and focused on him.

"Hmm… Hey Bee," Sam yawned as he stretched, the effort distorting his speech, "What time is it?"

Bumblebee brightened upon seeing Sam awake and broadcast a snippet of the classic "Breakfast Time" song from Nickelodeon circa 2006. Sam laughed at this and then laughed even harder as his stomach audibly growled.

"Sounds about right, big guy. What's a guy gotta do around here for some food?" Sam asked as he stood up, straightening his clothes and twisting a bit to loosen up his body.

"I'll have the Twins bring some supplies up for you, Sam. I'm sure you'd rather avoid the questions of the base personnel." Composing the comm, Bumblebee hoped Sam would agree. He was under strict orders from Prime not to allow Sam's presence to be discovered yet but he didn't know if he could deny his friend.

"That's fine." Sam was musing on just what the Twins would deliver when he realized something was different. Thinking about it a moment, he grinned up at Bumblebee.

"Hey! Your voice sounds great! Is it back for good?" It had always been aggravating that the two friends couldn't always carry full conversations, relying on text and song lyrics most of the time.

"Yes, Ratchet was finally able to obtain the necessary parts, either through our alliance or through salvage. It has been pleasing to be able to speak, not that.." Bumblebee paused, looking down at Sam, slightly uncomfortable with continuing his line of thought.

"Not that what, Bee? You can tell me." Sam wanted Bee to tell him everything, to be as close as they had been.

"Well, not that.. that I used it very much. I.. I never really felt like talking to anyone after you and Mikaela left. I haven't been.. the same. You wouldn't have recognized me." Bumblebee ended in a whisper, casting Sam a nervous glance.

Sam saw Bee's hesitance in his optics and felt more deeply than ever the gulf separation and time had wrought between them.

"Bee, I am so.. so sorry that I've been away so long. I was a fool. Worse, I was a coward."

"No!" Bumblebee interrupted. "You are no coward, Sam. Never believe that!"

Sam lowered his head, pacing as he felt his self-loathing well up inside him. "You're wrong, Bee. I am a coward. Mikaela, she wanted to come back, a long time ago. When we found out we would never have children she said we should come back, "make a difference" she said. But, I couldn't! I was too afraid to risk her life."

"Sam, we understand.."

"No! You don't understand! I was so worried about protecting her that I ignored what she wanted! After we knew we'd never have a normal life I should have at least given her the chance to make that difference she always wanted to make! But no! I was too selfish and terrified. After all, _I_ had already made more of a difference than I had ever wanted. _I _was the one who wanted to leave. Mikaela just wanted to make me happy. And when it became apparent _I'd_ never have what _I_ wanted, did I even consider what she wanted! I was so scared, Bee, that I kept her trapped in a life she didn't want. How sick is that! So don't tell me you understand! You don't!" Sam's voice, which had been steadily rising as he paced back and forth on the berth, finally cracked. All of the emotions he had been holding back, his grief over the loss of his wife, his anger over being denied the life he wanted, had finally become too much. He was no longer rational by the end of his tirade and his knees buckled beneath him, too overwhelmed to stand. He knelt there, tears and angry words interspersed with sorrowful cries.

Bumblebee had been watching Sam closely, recognizing Sam's need to release his pent-up emotions. He ached to reason with Sam, tell him that he was wrong. That if Mikaela was truly unhappy she would have left him long ago. But now was not the time for words. Instead, Bumblebee picked Sam up from the berth and placed him on the floor. Same barely registered the change but when Bumblebee transformed into his alt-form in front of him and opened the door, the mech did not have to give much encouragement for Sam to dive in, clutching the warm seats as he worked through his emotions. Content to wait, Bumblebee tinted his windows to full black and tried to soothe Sam without words.

* * *

When Ratchet left the Medbay to visit Sam, he left Wheeljack to watch over Spindle. The two Autobots had been working all night to repair the mini-bot's vocalizer. The going was slow, given the delicacy of the required parts, and ultimately they had concluded that they would need machined parts to fully complete the job. For now, they had outfitted Spindle with as large a speaker as hid frame could handle and taught him how to tap into the satellite radio service. Like Bumblebee before him, he would have to rely on recorded speech to communicate, at least with humans.

Wheeljack had been conversing with Spindle, trying to find out anything and everything the little mech knew about his creation and Sam. In turn, Spindle was learning more about the Cybertronian race and the war. Sam had explained as much as he could, but he didn't know everything. Wheeljack, for his part, was fascinated by the little mech. Though fully developed, Spindle's naiveté made him almost a sparkling and Wheeljack had not seen a sparkling since little Bumblebee was found. Spindle also represented hope for a future. Sam had created life once, why not again?

A sudden commotion at the door to Medbay had Wheeljack pivoting, his back to Spindle, blocking him from view. Wheeljack groaned a little before addressing his two least favorite base residents.

**Skids. Mudflap. Can I help you? **

"Hey 'Jack! We's jus' wonderin' where da little guy be?"

"Yea, we wanna meet 'em!"

**No English, please. We want Spindle and Sam's presence here to be a secret for now, remember?** Of course, this was only half the reason. Wheeljack could barely tolerate the Twins when they _weren't_ speaking; their use of bastardized English drove him to madness. **But yes, you can meet Spindle. But he can't leave the Medbay, clear? **

With quick acknowledgements, Wheeljack moved into another section of the Medbay, removed a bit from Spindle's location, allowing the Twins to see Spindle standing on the table. He eyed the Twins warily then transformed into his alt-form, flying down to a lower vantage point to speak face to face.

Wheeljack observed the first few moments of the meeting then returned his attention to a long term project he had been working on prior to the commotion of Sam and Spindle's arrival. He probably should have paid more attention to their interaction, but he was so close to producing a working prototype, one that wouldn't explode in his face this time. Probably. Maybe. And so, with Wheeljack engrossed in his project, the Twins forged the first bonds of friendship with the sparkling-like Spindle.

Approximately 20 minutes had passed when Wheeljack's concentration was broken by the sound of uproarious laughter on the part of the Twins and full-frame shaking from Spindle. Deciding he'd better determine the cause of such behavior, Wheeljack put on his sternest face and interrupted the group.

**What is going on here? **Placing his servos on his hips to accentuate the "I-know-you're-up-to-something" impression, he watched as the optics of the three mechs widened and they cast what they thought were furtive, mischievous glances at each other.

Skids was the first to speak, but before he could think of a convincing lie, a comm interrupted.

"Sorry 'Jack! The Yellow Bug jus' called. Wants us to get some grub for the fleshy. But really, we was doing nothing!"

"Yea, yea! Nuthin'!" Mudflap seconded his brother as they began moving towards the door hastily.

Wheeljack watched after them, optics narrowing, before settling with **NO ENGLISH!**. He watched as they ran out of the Medbay, nearly blocking each other as they each attempted to exit at the same time.

Spindle, unused to the twins' antics, chirped a little in amusement before shrinking back as Wheeljack turned his attention to him. A raised eyebrow had Spindle frantically searching his processor for something to say. **Uh…**

* * *

**AN: **Yea.. if you like Skids and Mudflap... probably won't see much more of them in this fic. Can't stand writing their speech patterns. To borrow from the fandom that diverted me from this fic: please leave a contribution in the little box.**  
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	13. Chapter 12

**AN: This is a re-upload to fix some grammatical errors as well as fix a continuity issue I created by not re-reading my writing. Broke the first rule in the book: ALWAYS re-read before submitting! Working on Chapter 13 now.  
**

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**AN:** **I'm back! Don't ever believe me if I give you a timeframe for the next chapter. I don't mean to lie but... it won't happen when I say it will. First, as always, thank you so much to those who favorite and story alerted this fic, and a special big thank you to those who review! When I see those reviews, favorites, and alerts I am motivated to update! So thanks, so much! **

**Purrpix: Annabelle explained... maybe more later. **

**Sunkissedvampire: I tried to slow things down, though I think I went more with "let's avoid completely" than I meant to. Let me know what you think! Thanks again for your advice!  
**

**On with the fic!**

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

* * *

After their hasty escape from the Medbay, the minor Twins reached the commissary just in time to see Optimus, Ironhide, and Ratchet disappear around a corner. Upon entering the commissary, they headed towards the buffet style kiosks where the human food was kept. Skids grabbed a plastic tray while Mudflap began loading up a few plates with whatever food he thought looked good. Normally the minor Twins would have taken this opportunity to argue over what food to get, who got to carry the tray, etc., but their glimpse of their leaders in the hallway was enough for them to know something had crawled up Prime's tailpipe and they did not want to be on his radar while he was angry. He'd just take it out on them and besides, their little plan with Spindle kind of required they *not* be locked up or assigned menial tasks under close observation.

So it was with little fuss that Skids and Mudflap went about their duty, one of two facts not lost to the attention of their human compatriots, the second being that the mechs were gathering human food. Life on a base, even a N.E.S.T. base, could become boring and anything strange became a hot bed for gossip. The soldiers had just spent their breakfasts and/or dinners, depending on their shift, watching their human and mech commanders lead a heated meeting, with Optimus and his top Lieutenants nearly storming out of said meeting, and now the Twins were piling various mismatched human food items onto a tray, managing not to make a mess or fight even once.

As the Twins made their way out of the commissary, the soldiers turned to each other at their tables, exchanging similar glances or comments.

Something *big* was up.

* * *

Sam had been curled up on Bee's seats for the past hour, his emotional blood-letting having sent him into a light doze. Skids and Mudflap had left the requested breakfast on the berth and Bumblebee managed to shoo them from the room without disturbing Sam. The food was probably cold by now, but Bee was loath to disturb his friend. Finally, Sam's stomach growled and he winced as he came out of his sleep.

"Bee...?"

Bumblebee waited a moment for Sam to continue, but as the silence became awkward he decided to pretend Sam hadn't had an emotional breakdown just a few hours ago. Sam would talk about it when he was ready. Bee had waited sixty years. What was more time?

"Skids and Mudflap dropped off some food for you about an hour ago. I'm not sure what exactly they brought but you should find something you like. Would you like to eat?"

Sam felt his eyes sting as he recognized the out his best friend was giving him. Shifting a little, Sam didn't respond for a moment. Smoothing his fingers over Bee's steering wheel he sighed and decided to take the out. Bee would understand if Sam couldn't continue their earlier conversation.

"Yea, sounds good Bee. I am starving and I get the feeling I should eat when I can. I doubt I'll be getting much opportunity for relaxation in the next few days. My return must have spread like wildfire by now." Stepping out of Bee's alt-form Sam didn't notice Bee shifting uneasily on his axles. Sam busied himself with stretching as Bee transformed and gave Sam his hand to lift him up to the berth.

The Twins hadn't given much thought to their selection and Sam was greeted with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and toast, all topped with chicken fingers, mashed potatoes, and peas. Thankfully the Twins had forgone the gravy sauce. Smiling a little Sam decided he was too hungry to be picky and he began to eat, managing to salvage most of the food. It would have been messy as the Twins had also forgone utensils, leaving Sam with just his hands, but Bee came to the rescue with a small chamois cloth from beneath the berth.

The meal was spent mostly silently, Bee surreptitiously watching Sam and Sam avoiding focusing on anything other than the meal. His observation of Sam was interrupted by an encrypted comm. Opening the link, he was startled by Optimus' curt command.

_**Bumblebee, report. **_

Slightly disturbed by Optimus' tone, Bee replied. _**Sam is awake and eating. The Twins were capable enough to supply him with a decent offering from the commissary. **_

_**Good, good. I want Sam's identity kept secret for the moment. I have just left a meeting with Colonel Sadowsky and needless to say, he is eager for more information and is not above threats to obtain it. Ratchet warned the Colonel that Sam is emitting a possibly dangerous energy field, but I don't believe Sadowsky won't attempt to learn more anyway. Guard Sam and have the Twins obtain whatever goods you or he may need. **_

_**Understood, sir. Is there anything else?**_

_**Yes. If possible, I'd like you and Sam to meet myself, Ironhide, Ratchet, and perhaps a few others tonight at 1800 hours for a private meeting. If you feel Sam isn't ready, I will understand, but there are plans to put into motion and we will need Sam's input. **_

_**Yes, sir. We'll be there. I'll comm. you if we can't make it. **_

_**Very good, Bumblebee. Bumblebee… how is he?**_ Optimus' tone softened at the last, all traces of his earlier tension gone. Bumblebee knew how much his leader had missed Sam and he considered himself very lucky to be spending this time alone with him.

_**It is hard to tell. He's spent most of the time sleeping. In some ways he is exactly as I remember him, but in others, he is a stranger to me. He has grown up, sir. I think once his emotional trauma lessens, we will see just how much he has changed. But he is happy to be here with us. **_

_**And we are happy to have him back. You perhaps most of all. **_A sigh echoed through the comm. link as Optimus continued. _**I just wish he was coming back to a better world. **_

It was rare for Optimus to reveal his deeper fears to his troops, even one so beloved as Bumblebee. It could be too damaging to morale for him to appear worried. At a loss as to how to respond, Bumblebee merely waited for Optimus to speak again.

_**Take care of him, Bumblebee. I will see you both tonight. **_

Sending an affirmative chirrup through the comm. link, Bee returned his attention to Sam as Optimus severed the connection.

Hunger had driven Sam to eat quickly and once finished he straightened his legs out and leaned back on his hands to digest. Bee lifted himself onto the second berth and settled back against the wall to wait. Time ticked by, seconds and minutes passing unnoticed between the two friends. Finally, Sam tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. After a few moments he heaved a deep sigh and cast his gaze to Bumblebee.

"Bee… about earlier…" Regret tinged Sam's voice.

"No, Sam. It's alright. You don't need to apologize. I shouldn't have presumed to understand what you've been through."

"I was unfair, Bee. I'm just so raw inside that I forgot you've been through just as much that I don't know anything about. I shouldn't have snapped like that, assumed you couldn't understand. We're best friends, but we're practically strangers to each other now. I want to know everything, but how about we just focus on the good stuff for now? There will be plenty of time for the bad later."

Nodding, Bee agreed wordlessly. Though the foundation was solid, there were many new and unexplored rooms in the house their friendship formed and it would take time to discover the new floor-plan. But neither doubted that eventually their house would become home again and they would be as inseparable as they'd been previously.

Their new understanding in place, Sam began asking Bumblebee about the mutual friends Sam and Mikaela had left behind. As Sam figured, most of those he knew were dead. Will had been injured in a battle around the same time they'd left and was left with a permanent limp that prevented him from rejoining an active N.E.S.T. team. Happily, his extensive experience with both bureaucracy and the Autobots allowed him to take on the role of diplomatic liaison between the two, a role he carried on with into his civilian life until his ultimate retirement fifteen years prior to Sam's return.

A Colonel Sadowsky was Will's replacement and Bee's tone seemed to suggest Sadowsky was far from filling the shoes of his predecessor. Will had died five years ago, peacefully. His daughter Annabelle, whom Sam remembered as a vibrant five year old running around his wedding reception, had grown up to be just like her father and spent the majority of her life raising public support of the Autobot's and was currently residing in a luxurious retirement home in Florida.

Epps had retired shortly after Sam left and eventually the Autobots lost track of him. The last they'd heard he was settling down in the Dominican Republic, but Bee didn't have any more information.

Leo had been killed in a car accident about twenty years after Sam left, his unlikely friend, former Agent Simmons, perishing alongside him. Bumblebee spoke on and on, recounting memorable stories about the men and women Sam remembered. When he finished with the humans, he moved on to the mech's, explaining that the others Sam remembered were spread among the various worldwide bases. The Autobot's had sustained losses over the years, but none whom Sam was familiar with. Bumblebee glossed over the sad times, instead focusing on those he knew would make Sam laugh.

Sam had settled down on his blankets, happy and sad in turn. When Bee wound down Sam bit his lip and asked the one question he'd put off until the end.

"Bee. Wh… What about my.. my parents? I mean, I know they must be dead, but… I… I don't know how or. or. anything like that."

Bee's optics widened at that and he cocked his head as he looked down at Sam. "I didn't realize you hadn't kept in contact with them. I thought.. Before you left… your mom?"

"Yea, I know. I promised her I'd keep in touch. But, I didn't. It was something Mikaela and I argued about often in the first few years after we left. I didn't want any contact with the families we left behind, for fear of the Decepticon's finding us but Mikaela refused to give up her father and thought I was being too paranoid. In the end we compromised. She would keep in contact with her father via disposable cell phone only and she would leave me to decide on my own what do about my own parents. There were times my hand would burn to pick up the phone and call, but in the end I couldn't. Even when I knew they'd be passing soon, I still couldn't bring myself to overcome my fear. I was so _stupid_, Bee. I let fear rule my life and now… I've managed to make everyone around me miserable and I lost everything anyway." Sam hung his head as he thought about all his mistakes.

In that moment, he felt such regret he almost gagged on it. He knew he was being unreasonable, that he couldn't have known that he'd never have that normal life he craved, but there was that manic sliver inside him which was screaming "_your_ fault, your _fault_, _your_ _fault_". Whining softly in distress, Bumblebee made to comfort his friend, but Sam spoke before he could move.

"But ignore me, Bee. Just tell me, what happened to them?" Sam's voice wavered a little, but when he returned his gaze to Bee's, his eyes reflected his resolve to focus on the future.

Flickering his optics, Bee returned to his original position against the wall and answered Sam's question. "I visited your parents often after you first left. They, they were all I had left, in a way. We would talk about you two for the most part. Judy seemed to always have a new memory to share. I believe I remember your childhood better than you!" Bee winked at Sam as he remembered the many evenings he had spent at the Witwicky residence. But his countenance turned sad when he continued.

"They seemed to be handling your absence as well as expected. They were depressed and sad, but they understood why you left. They couldn't have been prouder of you; your concern and obvious deep love of Mikaela reassured them that you would be ok. But as time went on they grew more and more remote from me and the other Autobots. And I didn't mind, really. I didn't pursue them. I think it was too painful for them to see us, the reason you had to leave. For my part, it was too difficult not to ask them about how you and Mikaela were doing. Eventually they broke off contact with us completely, though I secretly checked in on them from time to time." Gathering himself to impart the cause of Ron and Judy's deaths, Bumblebee met Sam's gaze and in a softer tone, continued.

"Your father passed away first, the victim of a heart attack at the age of 87. Your mother passed shortly after of natural causes. I imagine she couldn't live on without Ron. They left most of their belongings to charity, though a portion of their finances as well as the proceeds from the sale of their house they left in trust to you and Mikaela, should you ever return. They're buried next to each other in Good Shepherd Cemetery in Tranquility."

Bumblebee was silent after that and Sam was happy for that. His decision not to contact his parents had been one of his biggest regrets and he had hoped Bee would have painted a better picture of his parents' life after his departure. Closing his eyes he shook his head, _as if you *really* thought they'd just move on with smiles on their faces_. Snorting at himself, Sam addressed Bumblebee.

"I'd like to go see them, their graves, Bee. I should say goodbye."

"Sure Sam. We can do that, though it will probably have to wait a little while."

"Yeah, I understand. I'm actually pretty surprised I haven't been whisked away for an exam and debriefing yet. It's not every day you discover an immortal human with the power to bring machines to life at his fingertips. I was expecting more fanfare."

"Ah, yes, well…" Bee rubbed his head nervously as he looked at the far wall behind Sam.

"…Well what, Bee?" Sam narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Well, no one but the bot's know you're here. The human commanders know we brought a human and a mini-con to the base, but for now Optimus wants to keep your identity under wraps."

Sam blinked at this. "Why? I mean, I thought you guys were on good terms with the humans? I don't see why he'd want to keep me a secret. If I can learn to channel the Allspark's powers, I'm the biggest strategic advantage our side has. It doesn't make sense to limit that advantage with secrecy."

Bumblebee was taken aback yet again by Sam's insight into the situation. He was yet again reminded that though Sam may appear to be a youth, he had the life experience and reasoning ability of an adult many decades older.

"Suffice to say, for now anyway, that relations between our two species are not what they once were. I'll let Optimus give you the details. He commed me while you were eating, requesting our presence tonight for a meeting with some of the other Autobots. If you're up to it, we're to meet with them in four hours. At any rate, Optimus has ordered me to guard you and your identity. I'm afraid we're confined to this room for the moment."

Sam frowned at this but decided not to press the issue. Bumblebee was his best friend but he was still a soldier first and would not defy Optimus over such a relatively trivial matter. Sam would have his answers tonight. Nodding, Sam settled back onto his blankets.

"Got any good movies? Haven't been to the theaters in years." The last thing Sam wanted to spend the next four hours doing was talking. Bee seemed to feel the same and it wasn't long before Sam and Bee resettled in Bee's alt-form to watch some comedy projected onto Bee's windshield.

* * *

_Ductwork above the base command room…_

It had taken Frenzy only a few minutes to decide on the perfect location to carry out his second task. His presence on-base had gone undetected as yet and he reasoned that because a) no one was looking for him and b) the unknown threat was always hardest to see, the best method to accomplish his task would be to go for the central command stations. He ran a very high risk of being detected as the room was never completely empty, but he'd also complete his task the fastest.

When he'd installed the back-door program which allowed the Decepticon's access to the city-wide camera system he had been forced to work through several layers of security. All in all, that task had taken the hacker over two days to complete from a much more remote location. Now that he knew Witwicky was back and apparently carried the Allspark within his puny human flesh, Frenzy did not have two days. And his current task made the city security system look simple.

His master had ordered him to finalize what his back-door program had started: an unknown Allspark energy source was in Los Angeles and Frenzy was to ensure the Decepticon's could move undetected within the city limits. Previously this risky task hadn't been worth the benefits as, besides the Autobots, there had not been much reason to attack the city. The Decepticon's need only attack a less defended city if they wanted to kill humans or draw out the Autobot's. But there most certainly was reason to risk this operation now.

Frenzy intended to go a step farther and attempt to obtain some control over the base security as well. This would take him weeks, if not a month, from a remote location, but here in the central command he would have direct access to the systems he needed to crack. The problem would be doing so undetected. The room was just large enough for the smaller Autobot's to enter and periodically they would patrol, gathering any relevant information and generally keeping an eye on the human activities. Frenzy would have to cease all processor functions but those that sustained his spark when they were present. This could delay the hacker considerably, depending on the frequency of the Autobot patrols, but he was depending on the human and Autobot tendency to relax in "safe" environments to aid him.

When he'd first reached his current position last night he wasted no time developing a wireless connection with the base computers. He wouldn't be able to upload his final program via a wireless connection but it would be enough to guide him in programming his virus. Once complete he'd sneak down and establish a hard connection to upload it into the central systems. Error checking and debugging could be accomplished through the interface he'd previously used to view the base camera footage.

Estimating two days to the completion of his task, Frenzy set his sensor net to alert him of any approaching spark signature or threat to his position and devoted the rest of his processor to accomplishing his mission. The Autobot's would never see them coming…

* * *

**AN: Action is coming... yey. Hopefully not too predictable action... I can't wait to hear from you all! I hope Sam seems a little OOC. I'm going for a mature Sam, as he really is an "old man" mentally. However, being 25 doesn't give me the greatest insight into how a senior mind would handle everything going on. **


	14. Chapter 13

**AN: Ok. You all know by now I don't update regularly. I think I've apologized enough for my appalling lack of discipline when it comes to writing this fic. In any case, you all have Alathea2 to thank for my getting my fingers in gear. Thank you Althea, and I hope you like this latest installment. It's about half of what I wanted to write, but it was so long I just couldn't keep going. **

**Also, I have nothing against Iran. Being the stereotypical geographically-challenged American that I am, I didn't even know that Iran was south of Kazakhstan until I already wrote that section and then used Google Earth to look around for a plausible human enemy nation for the Bot's to fight. So if you're Iranian, don't be offended, please. **

**Ok, on with the fic.**

Astrosecond: 0.273 seconds

Nanoclick: 1 second

Breem: 8.3 minutes

Stellar cycle: 7.5 months

Vorn: 83 years

**Bold: Cybertronian speech**

_**Bold and Italic: Cybertronian via comm link**_

"In quotes": English

_Italics: thoughts_

* * *

With Ratchet headed towards the Medbay and Optimus retreating to his office, Ironhide set out to find Jolt and relay the list of recalled mech's before he left. Planning Jolt's itinerary, Ironhide's thoughts turned to the Autobot base in Kazakhstan. Shortly after Sam and Mikaela left to parts unknown, the United States, fearing the "Iranian threat", quietly disposed of President Ahmadinejad. Unfortunately, as is usually the case when one nation meddles in the affairs of another, turmoil resulted as various religious factions fought for control.

The Iranian situation, as the American military leaders put it, became a full-fledged Autobot _problem_ when, after their success in Lagos, the Decepticon's openly resupplied using a theretofore unknown base just inside Iran's border with Turkey. Using the political in-fighting to play both sides, the Con's had quietly created a puppet government, completely subservient to the whims of Megatron. Iran's insularity prevented many from grasping the situation, though some reports did make it out. By the time the world understood, Seekers were flying in launch components for the Scuds the Iranians had bought cheap after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, _right_ over the roofs of the retreating Autobot force.

Iran was now nothing more than a Decepticon base of operations.

Of course, the Autobot's and their allies responded with the creation of the Atyrau base, located across the Caspian Sea from Iran at the mouth of the Ural River. Easy access to Iran and Kazakhstan's rich oil fields gave the Autobot's an excellent base of operations of their own and ever since major battles to minor skirmishes with Iranian-backed Decepticon forces had been fought in the surrounding nations. Due to a recent rise in combat incidences, two of the finest Autobot soldiers had been reassigned to Atyrau. _Though considering the mood they left Ratchet in, _Ironhide mused, _I don't think they minded the reassignment._

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, known collectively as the major-Twins among the humans, were known to be deadly foes to their enemies as well as an aggravation to their allies, human and Cybertronian alike. Their reassignment had saved them from Ratchet's revenge and Ironhide wondered if they would heed his recall orders. _Well,_ Ironhide mused, _the chance for a major, war-changing battle should reel them in. Maybe Ratchet can put the fear of Primus into them, save the rest of us some… unhealthy emotions._

Amusing himself with images of the pesky Twins cowering in fear, Ironhide catalogued the remaining bases and their personnel. Prowl was currently stationed in a small base in the Republic of Cameroon, a vibrant nation located southeast of Decepticon-controlled Nigeria. His role there was mostly advisory. As yet the Con's were more interested in refining Nigeria's energy reserves than conquering their new neighbors, but when their focus inevitably shifted south the Autobot's wanted their Cameroonian allies to be as prepared as possible to fight alongside the Bots. Prowl's reports had been promising; the Cameroonian military had been more than eager to learn and their ranks were swelled by refugees fleeing south, they themselves eager for revenge. Of course, with more men also came problems, both logistical and inter-personal. The latter was sure to have Prowl longing for home base, if the reserved tactician could actually admit to having an emotion.

Jolt's last stop would be at Ramstein Air Force Base in Ramstein, Germany. There he would deliver the last of his supplies and pick up Kup, an expert marksman. If ever you found yourself on the run, the slagging Con's on your tail, there was no gun you'd rather have than one aimed by Kup. Not exceptionally speedy, Kup was nevertheless an excellent bodyguard in a supporting role. Like Prowl in Cameroon, Kup had been stationed in Germany for training purposes. Humans had had miniature sabot-loaded rifles almost since the start of their alliance with the Bots but with attacks increasing in frequency, at least outside of the United States, the Autobot's had been forced to give their human allies abroad better armaments as they often engaged in battle far from support troops. Kup's job was simply to train the humans in the use of their new weapons. That had been over half a stellar cycle ago; Kup had to be bored by now.

If all went smoothly, Jolt would be back within 36 hours of leaving. With Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Prowl, and Kup the Los Angeles base would stand their best chance of protecting this new version of the Allspark, protecting Sam. Ironhide was worried about their inability to predict the movements of the Con's, but Optimus seemed to have some idea on that and Ironhide saved his thoughts on the matter for the meeting.

Reaching the door for the central command room, Ironhide triggered the intercom at the door, announcing his presence to those within and requesting Jolt join him in the corridor. Ironhide himself was too large to enter the central command room and because the room housed the most sensitive communications equipment on base, any comm. link communication between those within and without couldn't help but be monitored. The humans had made fair progress in the translation of the Cybertronian language though Cybertronian encryption escaped them as yet. The use of an encrypted comm. within the central command room would cause questions, especially when used to relay simple resupply orders.

When the blue mech joined him in the corridor, Ironhide motioned for him to follow as Ironhide made his way towards the hangar bay, stopping in a secluded corner. They were sufficiently far away from central command's communication equipment; the humans could still potentially monitor the conversation and detect the encrypted comm. link, but Ironhide counted on them to turn their attention elsewhere, taking his meeting with Jolt at face value.

Ironhide and Jolt turned to observe the humans load supplies onto the newest product of human/Cybertronian cooperation: the Lockheed C-20 Galaxy II, an ultra-advanced version of the Lockheed C-5M Super Galaxy. The plane was massive, capable of transporting Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Bumblebee at once in alt-forms. Its metal skin was a composite of Cybertronian and Earth-based metals, but it was the engines that made it a wonder to see. Even modified to be less powerful, they outputted only half of their total power with a full payload. These were almost the engines that powered the Ark through space and had moved moons at the whim of the Cybertronian race. Gazing upon them reminded Ironhide of Cybertron.

Returning his attention to Jolt, Ironhide began his mission briefing.

"When will you be ready to depart?" Ironhide questioned.

Tilting his head to the side, Jolt responded, "Within two hours, I'd say. The plane is nearly loaded."

"Excellent. This resupply mission should be simple enough. With those engines you should be back within 36 hours, by my calculations."

Nodding, Jolt replied, "I don't doubt it, sir. I was young when the war started but I remember, just before the start, the Cybertronian Military Academy's flight school put on a show in Kalis. After the Seekers performed their aerials they showcased the engines those were based on, carrying the equivalent in weight to the largest building in Iacon." Snorting, Jolt continued, "I wonder now how many Decepticon's were in that flight and whether the whole thing was just a practice run for their future bombing runs."

Optics dimming, Ironhide remained silent. Returning to the mission at hand, Ironhide and Jolt gave every appearance of a standard mission briefing for the benefit of any listening ears. Via an encrypted comm. link, however, Ironhide relayed Jolt's true orders. The mission briefing took a few minutes more to complete, after which Ironhide dismissed him to help the humans load the magnificent plane. Task completed, Ironhide headed out to patrol the base, heavy thoughts on his processor. There were still three hours left before the evening meeting.

* * *

Ratchet entered the Medbay to find Wheeljack bent over his latest invention, too focused to register Ratchet's arrival. Drawing on past experience, Ratchet hesitated to interrupt his fellow scientist. The chance of explosion doubled when Wheeljack was startled. Deciding to wait for Wheeljack's awareness to return on its own, Ratchet scanned the room, searching for Spindle's spark signature. He soon found the mini-con curled up in recharge on a wall shelf.

Observing the tiny mech, Ratchet was at a loss as to how to fully repair Spindle's vocalizer. He hadn't been lying when he said he needed custom parts for the job. Perhaps Wheeljack could rig something up a little better than the speaker they'd attached last night, but Ratchet had his doubts. Deciding to leave Spindle to recharge, Ratchet busied himself with his own pet projects, dedicating a sub-routine to monitor Wheeljack and inform him when it would be safe to approach the inventor.

Nearly two hours passed before Ratchet was made aware of Wheeljack shifting from his place at his work table, stretching his arms over his head and leaning a little to release the coiled tension within his cabling. Knowing he had but a moment before Wheeljack became once more engrossed in his work, Ratchet quickly finished what he was doing and turned to greet his friend.

Watching the reaction, Ratchet modified his sub-routine. _Perhaps it would be better to be __sure__ Wheeljack sees me before assuming he knows I'm here_. Ratchet watched as the other mech leapt two feet off the ground as he spun around, catching himself on both the work table _and_ his prototype.

Realizing what exactly lay crushed under his servo, Wheeljack became utterly still, mouth gaping a little as he tried to process the loss of all those days of work. He turned his gaze to Ratchet, whose smirk of amusement at Wheeljack's antics slowly melted off his face at the sight. _Uh oh…_

"RATCHET! You SLAGGER! What'd you do THAT for? Do you REALIZE that took me SIX DAYS non-stop to perfect?" At the word "perfect" Ratchet couldn't help but quirk his optical ridges.

"Well, _ALMOST_ perfect! You should know by now not to sneak up on a being! Couldn't you have just waited an astrosecond?" His optics flaring in a mixture of anger and distress, Wheeljack was ramping up for a good rant when Ratchet calmly interrupted.

"I've been in this room for over two hours, 'Jack. I specifically waited until your attention *appeared* to have left your work table. Don't you know how to program a good spatial sensor program? Besides, we both know odds are I just saved you from a nasty 'surprise' when you turned that thing on. What was it, anyway?" Ratchet had been watching Wheeljack reel from anger, shame, and back to anger and figured he had better appeal to 'Jack's inventor pride if he wanted to be on time to Prime's meeting.

It seemed to work, this time at least, as Wheeljack calmed down, throwing one last peevish glance at Ratchet as he began to explain his now deceased machine, growing more excited with each new detail. Listening with half an ear, Ratchet waited for 'Jack's ire to truly fade before bringing up the matter of Spindle's vocalizer.

"…imagine if the city had integrated hologram support? Tactically we could project our images throughout the city limits. At least we would be able to startle an unsuspecting Con and confuse them in the heat of battle. If this energy stabilizer works, we could theoretically pair the technology with an energy-matter converter able to create clones of ourselves for a short time. Spread the finished product throughout the allied nations and we could have a worldwide presence, divert real soldiers to more vital locations. Outside of battle, we could supplement our income with virtual tourism fees. 'Walk the streets of Venice from your living room.' Our hologram technology would provide a level of detail far superior to the human's virtual reality and they'd be able to interact with the natives in real time. We could..."

"That's fascinating, 'Jack, really! Its potential uses are endless, but I'm afraid we need to focus right now on fixing Spindle's vocalizer. Prime's orders. I've been considering the problem; I don't think it's possible without custom parts, but I was hoping you'd have a new insight."

Wheeljack paused in his rant, optics flickering as his processor flitted from idea to idea. As he considered he began to pace the room, occasionally muttering to himself quietly. Watching him walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth was making Ratchet dizzy and when, after twenty minutes Wheeljack still hadn't said anything, Ratchet decided to return his attention to his own intact project. _Inventors,_ Ratchet harrumphed, shaking his head slightly.

Another hour passed without Wheeljack uttering anything intelligible and Ratchet was finishing up at his work table in preparation for the meeting with Prime and the others when a ruckus at the door caught his attention. Wheeljack didn't even pause in his strides as Skids and Mudflap came barreling into the Medbay, in an argument over something Ratchet considered too inane to fully process. In a near carbon copy of Wheeljack earlier in the day, Ratchet strode over to stand in front of the minor-Twins, servos on hips and a scowl upon his face.

The minor-Twins were nearly on top of him before his presence registered in their occupied processors.

**Ahh! Ra.. Ratchet! Hey man, we's didn't see you there. Uh.. We doin' nuthin'!**

Behind him, Mudflap nodded his agreement with his twin.

**Did I ask you what you were doing? **

Backpedalling, Skids sputtered to come up with an answer. **No, no. I just, uh figured you'd, uh wanna know so I jus' saved you the time of askin'. You know, I'm helpful like dat. **

**Helpfulness is the **_**last**_** character trait either of you possess. Now, what are you doing in the Medbay? My scanners don't detect any injuries. **

**Oh, we're jus' hear ta see the little-guy. Spindle! He's actually pretty rad. **Skids had been watching a cartoon called the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles recently and just had to use every slang term of the decade it came from. _If only they could change the sub-genre of human speech patterns they based their language coding on all those years ago._ Ratchet mused.

**Yea, neva' woulda thought it, what with bein' sparked by Sam! He be da dullest human around. Even Leo was more innerestin'! **

**Enough! Spindle is currently in recharge. I see no reason to disturb him. Come back later. **

**But Ratchet… we PROMISED the little-guy we'd come back and keep him company.**

**Yea! We was s'posed ta be here earlier but the Yellow Bug ordered up dinner for Sam. **

Narrowing his optics, Ratchet relented and allowed the meeting. **I will be leaving shortly for a meeting with Prime. Spindle is not to leave Medbay, remember? Wheeljack will remain here to watch you.**

Nodding their agreement, the minor-Twins moved towards Spindle, waking him from recharge. Checking his internal chronometer, Ratchet turned his attention to Wheeljack. With caution he managed to interrupt the inventor's incessant pacing without incident, to learn that he had not thought of anything practical or quicker than custom parts. Whatever Optimus' plan was, it would need to be modified.

**Very well. I'm leaving now for a meeting with Optimus. I'll inform him of Spindle's status. Keep on it and in the meantime, I've allowed the minor-Pests to visit with Spindle. Make sure they don't destroy the Medbay while I'm gone. **

Looking over Ratchet's shoulder Wheeljack finally registered Skids and Mudflap's presence before glancing over to Ratchet and commenting dryly. **No, that would be my job, wouldn't it.**

Taking the sarcastic comment as absolution for his earlier harsh assessment of Wheeljack's abilities, Ratchet chuckled in response before heading out. He wanted to give Optimus time to reconsider whatever strategy he had formulated earlier before the meeting officially started.

* * *

Belching, Sam leaned back as he finished his impromptu dinner.

"Emotional bloodletting leads to outrageous appetite… check. Remind me to give the Twins a lesson in human food at some point." Skids and Mudflap had found the gravy, this time. Bits of sweet potatoes, peas, eggs, bacon, and meatloaf floated in the sea of gravy left over on the plates.

"Noted," Bee replied as he gazed down at the remainder of Sam's dinner. Before Sam's stomach had demanded sustenance, the two friends had whiled away the day talking and watching first a comedy then a sci-fi thriller. Bumblebee had had to agree when Sam commented that Hollywood hadn't gotten any better over the years, besides the effects.

"When do we leave for the meeting, 'Bee? That, I have to give time to digest!"

"About a half-hour. We'll need to wait for the all clear signal as I can't drive through the doorway. A simple camera malfunction will do it."

"Hm. That'll get this Colonel Sadowsky hot under the collar." Though Bee had continued to defer most of Sam's questions on the human-Cybertronian alliance during the last four hours, Sam had determined Lennox's replacement was _very much_ disliked and couldn't help but feel the same, even though he'd never met the man.

"Oh yes, I imagine he's made watching our door a special duty. He's no fool. He'll send someone to check on us when he finds out there was a lapse in camera coverage. The fear of radiation should keep them from trying to decrypt the door lock, however."

Nodding, the two lapsed back into a comfortable silence, waiting to join the others.

* * *

_Ductwork above the central command room…_

Frenzy had been making decent progress on his virus when a monitoring sub-routine popped a warning onto his HUD. An Autobot was about to enter the room. Frenzy confirmed the Bot's identity before scrambling to shut down his functions lest Jolt detect his presence. Moving through the room, Jolt passed directly under Frenzy's position. While Frenzy's processor was essentially shut off, his passive detection devices, his audio's to be specific, continued to log their observations for analysis once his main processor was back online.

Frenzy remained powered down for nearly an hour before his monitoring sub-routines registered Jolt's departure from the room below. As he had programmed, the sub-routines kept him in near stasis for a breem before authorizing a return to normal function. Before continuing his work on his virus, Frenzy reviewed the information his audio's had obtained.

Vorns of experience had Frenzy automatically tracking the Autobot weapons specialist and scout. Considering the lax security thus far, perhaps the Autoscum would let something slip. He found them in the middle of a mission briefing in the hangar bay. Scanning their conversation he detected a well-hidden encrypted comm. signal between the two. Spending a nanoclick on analysis, he was unable to immediately break the coding. At any other time the challenge would have the hacker's complete attention. But Frenzy knew the virus was more important at the moment. He filed the conversation away and decided he would start on it as soon as he completed his primary mission. A day and a half, on the outside, and Frenzy would be inside.

Contenting himself with that, he returned to his work.

* * *

**AN: For some reason I love ending chapters with Frenzy. I don't know why. If you liked it, please let me know. Thanks for reading! **


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